


Hoddmímis Holt

by GretchenSinister



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Loki (Marvel), Bottom Thor (Marvel), Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Getting Together, Happy Ending, I don't know what an infinity war is and I don't care to, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Sibling Incest, Top Loki (Marvel), Top Thor (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 02:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: After Asgard is destroyed, Thor and Loki reunite on the ship carrying the Asgardian refugees to Earth. The hug Thor offers turns into much more as he offers to love Loki in whatever way he needs to be loved, and Loki decides to take him at his word. Their mutual desires are revealed and fulfilled, and in this world where their first home has been erased, they are able to find a possible way forward that they can walk together.





	Hoddmímis Holt

**Author's Note:**

> Thanos fucking dies at the end of this fic and Loki lives, just so you don't worry.
> 
> Fun fact! Almost exactly 7 years ago, I started writing a completely different Thorki fic that I never finished. Feels good to finally have finished something for this pairing. I hope you enjoy it~

“And if you were really here, I might hug you.” Thor gave Loki a half-smile and lobbed the stopper towards him.

And Loki reached out and caught it, the  _smack_  solid and definite against his skin. There were places he could have run to, he assured himself. There were other empires in the universe to rule or topple. He didn’t  _need_  to be part of this story anymore, not with Asgard gone. All the pain he’d caused and felt, twined into Asgard’s life and death—any steps forward would be difficult and complicated ones. Thousands upon thousands of choices faced him, no matter what of himself he wanted to be made new, and no matter what of himself he wanted to stay the same. And he knew all too well that the choices he made weren’t often the wisest ones. In fact, if he really wanted to make one wise decision, he should have been long gone by now.

But here he was. And if he hadn’t been here, he wouldn’t have gotten to see Thor blink at him, stunned, and he wouldn’t have gotten to see Thor smile at him like the dawn—that Thor could, and  _would_  still smile at him! It was a steady madness, an eternal flame that baffled and terrified him even as it drew him like a moth if he wasn’t careful. And he was not—well, he was not  _consistently_  careful.

“Only might?” he said coolly, tossing the paperweight up into the air. He never caught it. Before it landed, Thor had crossed the distance between them in three long strides and wrapped his arms around him.

“No,” Thor said. “Not only might.” And he held Loki, and kept holding Loki, even though Loki hadn’t relaxed, even though Loki hadn’t managed to return the embrace, and even though he’d gotten stabbed for doing such a thing before. And that was something fundamental to Thor. He was always ready to give so much. And Loki simply couldn’t resist taking what was offered, not anymore. His shoulders slumped, and he wrapped his arms around Thor’s solid bulk.

“After so much,” Thor said, “after so much—Loki, I haven’t always said all the things I needed to say to you, and still less all the things I wanted to say to you. But now—oh, what I want to say, you’ll probably know a better way of saying it and you’ll call me clumsy, but, ah hell, here I go. Now that the hammer’s gone, at least I’m found worthy of being held by you.”

“Thor—what—there’s no call to say things like that. You know that my arms are hardly an exclusive location.”

Thor shrugged, still holding him. “But I know that I have to be especially excellent to deserve a place within them. After all, our dynamic is rather different from those others you speak of.”

Oh yes. Very different. And he had to hold onto that, even tighter than he was holding onto Thor right now.

Thor moved his hand up and down on Loki’s back. Loki leaned forward, resting his head on Thor’s shoulder. A decision. Not a wise one. “Thor,” he began, intending to decide what to say as he said it. Instead, he stayed silent. It wasn’t completely unexpected. He was famed for a silver tongue, and his reputation wasn’t undeserved, but he often lost his skill in speech around Thor. The things he said to Thor always seemed more real than the things he said to anyone else. Thor could listen to him too closely. Thor had heard too much of what he’d said and hadn’t said over the centuries. He couldn’t be careful enough around Thor.

“I have a little more to say,” Thor said.

“Go on, then.”

“I took you for granted for too long. I didn’t treat you with the care you deserved, as my brother and my friend. I saw only myself in the stories we were both a part of. I saw too much of the role you slipped into and not enough of you. It seemed like all of Asgard wanted you to be someone you  _almost_  were, but not quite. I should have seen you, at least, no matter how good my role was, and no matter my fears.”

What in the world had Thor feared, when they were both princes? He couldn’t ask outright. He just couldn’t. “Fear of me taking the throne?”

Thor chuckled. “No, not that. Something quite different.”

“I’m going to get it out of you,” Loki said. “A fear is a weakness. I…can’t let anyone else exploit that weakness.”

“Only you, then? But this isn’t about that. I’m sorry for not treating you as I should have.”

_No, Thor, don’t say things like that. Don’t show me how much you’ve grown. Don’t show me the true heart beneath all the smiles and muscles of a perfect Asgardian prince. Don’t show me that you care. I can’t be careful unless you’re careless._

“That’s an absurd apology to make, considering all the things I’ve done to you and your friends and allies over the past few years,” Loki said.

“Maybe,” said Thor, “but I still mean it. This is about my actions, not yours.”

Loki sighed. He needed to pull away. Thor had called him brother. He should take that and hoard it, and refuse to feel that he was being deprived of anything with such a generous gift. He curled his fingertips around the edges of the pieces of Thor’s armor that were under his hands. “Well, perhaps an apology is less absurd for your actions than for mine. An apology for such things as I have done…it makes them seem personal. And many were on a scale far larger than that. So. I will promise at least that I won’t do the same things again.”

“So you’re not going to apologize for stabbing me?” Thor asked, an amused lilt in his voice.

 _No. Don’t find it funny._  If it was funny, it wouldn’t be a barrier between them. Loki lifted his head and smiled at Thor. Yes, they were too close. They needed a barrier between them. “Which time? We can’t stand here like this all day.”

“I don’t know, I really don’t have any other pressing business,” Thor said. His hold was firm, secure.

It was the moment to struggle. To turn this into a wrestling match, like when they were so much younger, a match Loki could not hope to win, a match that would, oh so naturally, end with Loki pinned underneath Thor as the loser, Loki stalking off to sulk and nurse his wounded pride. But sulking wasn’t the only thing he had done. And that had been an important beginning, had it not? Because he’d learned so much, then, about hiding in a role, about how easy it was to hide what was really wrong with different wrongs. How easy it was to craft a persona where no one would question why someone so prideful would so often submit himself to humiliation.

Loki couldn’t go back to that, but neither could he pull away. There was only danger for him now. The only movement he could manage was to turn his head to look at Thor’s face again. How dare Thor do this? How dare Thor stroke his back? How dare Thor let Loki touch him?

“Loki, Loki,” Thor said, as softly as Loki had ever heard him speak. “I made my apology because I wanted you to know that I know I haven’t loved you the way I should.”

This couldn’t be happening. That was all there was to it. “Well, neither have I, certainly.” Loki licked his lips. He couldn’t help it. And Thor watched.

“Loki,” Thor said again. “Now, after everything, I want to tell you—I need to tell you—that I will gladly love you in whatever way you need to be loved by me.”

“You can’t say such things, Thor. You…you have no idea how dangerous saying something like that is.”

“Do I not?” Thor opened the circle of his arms to hold Loki more lightly. This, again, was a point when Loki should have resisted, when he should have pushed away, made a joke, said the cruelest thing he could imagine. But he didn’t. His mind was still reeling with Thor’s world-shaking offer.  _I will gladly love you in whatever way you need to be loved by me._  Could he fix on the word need? Would that be enough to stop himself from ever telling Thor what he wanted? Because he could live without Thor’s love, of course he could—could he? When it was so plainly offered?

And then, in the midst of his indecision, Thor carefully pressed his hand to the back of Loki’s neck, tilting his head down, and kissed him on the forehead.

It was gentle, lingering. For Loki, the rest of the room might have disappeared, containing no sensations so important as the warmth and softness of Thor’s lips and the brush of his beard around them.

There was no time for Loki to both experience and analyze this. But in a flash, he knew what he would wish it to be, if it could be anything. It would be Thor, showing him what he wanted, too, but giving Loki a way to not see it if he didn’t want to. If this was a sign that Thor wanted the same unspeakable things he did, it was a careful sign, one that would not be read as an offer of the unimaginable if Loki had not also imagined it. But if Thor—if the unimaginable was still unimagined by him (which it could well be, this kiss was a kiss, but it was still only on his forehead) then whatever Loki did next could ruin everything.

So. What else was new? The responsibility of audacity so often fell to him. He raised his head, and without meeting Thor’s eye (he did not want to see anything that would tell him to stop, now) kissed him on the mouth. He wasn’t afraid of anger, now, wasn’t afraid of violence, but oh, he had to have been wrong, there was no way Thor also wanted this. His stomach flipped at the terrible transgression of it all, at the feel of Thor’s mouth against his own, his beard against his skin. Soon there would be disgust, soon there would be disappointment—but there was not. Instead, Thor tightened his embrace, and brushed his tongue against Loki’s lips, a wordless question that Loki dearly wanted to answer by opening his mouth and letting Thor in.

But it could  _not_  be that easy. It couldn’t! Not this! Loki’s hands scrabbled and clenched on Thor’s armor—let go/don’t let go/let go—and after not enough but also far too much of that kiss, he pushed back from Thor and held him at arm’s length, searching his face wildly for anything he could use to make this moment make sense. He found only devotion. Only the precious softness that Loki had spent so long envying the recipients of that he now found the emotion absurdly directed against himself.

“Explain yourself,” he said.

Thor licked his lips (as if he wanted to keep even the slightest taste of Loki with him!) and heat skirled through Loki’s body. “Did you not want to be kissed back?” His voice was low, a little hoarse, and Loki could have fed on the memory of it for years. “Or—oh—it was a joke. How foolish of me. I now recall that you have kissed many people as jokes. I don’t know what else to say, now, but you needn’t fear me in this—”

“Thor! Stop.” Loki pushed back his hair and gave a breathless little laugh. “You’re right, I’ve kissed people as a joke, but never you. You know that. And it wasn’t because I thought you’d deck me for it. It was because…because it would have been too real. And I didn’t want to find out that this was the one time my illusions and deceptions would fail. So, I did want you to kiss back! I’ve wanted that for time out of mind! I’ve wanted that for longer than I’ve let myself know that I wanted it! Now you explain yourself! If you didn’t guess this about me, which it does seem like you weren’t sure, then…how long has it been for you?”

Thor looked down. “Not as long as you. I was only able to admit it to myself after I thought I lost you for the first time. On the bridge. That made my mourning strange. I resolved to never tell anyone. It was my burden, and I would bear it alone. When I learned you were alive, I hoped that my feelings would change to more acceptable ones. I hoped that I had simply had a strange reaction to your sudden loss. But through all the anger, and heartbreak, and sorrow—underneath it all I loved you as a lover. Confusion hasn’t stopped the way I felt, nor shame. And so I thought…I would offer you the chance to take any of my love, if you wanted it. And if my desires were unrequited, as I could only assume, at least I could stop my terrible wondering.”

Loki laughed again, a little wildly. “So that’s all the explanation there is? But what else could there be?” He shook his head, stepped back, folded and unfolded his arms. “Even in this you’re a little better than me. You didn’t acknowledge anything, even to yourself, until you knew we weren’t related by blood.”

“Do such fine distinctions matter?”

“Perhaps not here, between us. But if we were found out, it might.”

“Then let no one find out.”

Loki tilted his head. “No need to tell me. I am at ease with both having and being a secret lover. You were a favored prince for millennia. You’ve never needed to practice discretion.”

Thor gave him a grin that melted the tension in the room like sun on frost. “Are you sure about that? Don’t fall into old patterns now, Loki.”

Loki allowed his own small smile to answer Thor’s. “All right, I admit I’m a bit surprised. So, the lovers you failed to hide—?”

“The problem was always class. After two or three times I’d practically memorized Odin’s lecture about it. And as long as I seemed to listen for a while, there was no need to watch me very closely. Especially when you were always causing so much more trouble.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose—”

“And I should thank you even more, because I learned that strategy from you.”

“I—of course you did. Though I will say I was expecting you to say that you taught me, being the older.”

“I taught you plenty of other things,” Thor said. “Mostly things you don’t use, but even a blunt object can be the trick up your sleeve sometimes, right? I know that all the things I was thought to be far superior to you in I wasn’t as far ahead as you wanted people to think.”

“And you never asked me why—never mind that. What did you have to hide?”

Thor shrugged. “There are a few unspoken rules about actions a prince of Asgard shouldn’t participate in, on the assumption that he shouldn’t want to. You acted with complete and utter disregard of those unspoken rules, but by the time you were old enough to do so, that didn’t surprise anybody.”

“Are you talking about taking male lovers? Odin tolerated mine, yes, but yours were so few and far between…and Odin was as hostile to them as possible without resorting to outright violence.”

“Yes, which is why they were so few and far between. And I’m sure you heard of Odin’s conversations with me regarding them.”

“Heard of, yes. The contents of, no. Those were some of the few times when neither of you were accompanied by guards, even at a distance.”

“Good for the guards, then.” Thor grimaces briefly, a passing cloud. “I wouldn’t wish anyone to suffer overhearing Odin tell me, in coded, but definitely not uncertain terms, that I had better not be bottoming, and that sucking cock was just barely acceptable. Oh, and that if I had a male lover, his cock had better be smaller than mine.”

Loki blinked. “Sounds like those unspoken rules became spoken.”

“Well, it wasn’t so explicit. Good thing, too, otherwise I might have tragically died of embarrassment at the dawn of manhood.”

“I would comment on how strange those rules sound, and how unpleasant, but I was just as Asgardian as you. I would have never guessed, though, that you felt any sort of restriction, even despite Odin’s obvious hostility. And that was on purpose!”

“It was easier for me to be the perfect prince than it was for you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to put some work into it. And, well, you know that I still ended up doing a lot to distract myself from anything substantial about that role.”

“Yes,” Loki said thoughtfully. “You didn’t fully understand a lot of this until recently, though, right?”

Thor laughed. “Right! I wasn’t exactly encouraged to be introspective. Until I suddenly had to prove my worth to a hammer, that is.”

“These years…” Loki said. “Wait just one minute, though. Let’s back up. What you were hiding, and very successfully, was that you were bottoming for men? Is that what this comes back around to?”

“If you can’t imagine it, that’s on purpose,” Thor said, looking off into a corner of the room.

“Thor, of course I’ve imagined it. I merely wanted to call attention to the nonsense underlying this conversation. We have a much more serious secret, now.”

“True,” Thor said. He stepped towards Loki. “Perhaps a little less conversation is in order.”

Loki took his own small step forward, drawn to Thor, not as if by magnetism, or gravity, for those were forces that his magic could easily overcome, but with the wonder of welcomed desire, which it was nearly impossible to resist. “All right, then. If you can keep a secret, so can I.”

“For you? Of course,” Thor said.

His sincerity was unbearable. It was something Loki had never known how to begin to hold when it was given to him. And now, it seemed even more difficult—now, when he wanted to keep it, when it wasn’t something he was going to turn back as a weapon. Like a shooting star, like a leaping golden fish, like a perfect moment of light as the sun sank towards evening. Hands like his, a heart like his, could never hold such a thing.

But he could at least hold Thor himself. Loki closed the small distance between them in a rush, reaching up and cupping Thor’s face with far less finesse than he would have chosen if he’d had time to think, time to plan. But he didn’t need to do that with Thor. He pulled Thor closer and kissed him, the feeling of the rightness of this moment and the knowledge of the wrongness of this moment singing in his veins. Thor wrapped his arms around Loki once more; he opened his mouth for Loki’s silver tongue, and Loki felt such heat spread through his body as he had not believed anyone could call from him.

But if anyone could, of course it would be Thor.

And so they learned each other’s mouths, lips and tongues and teeth, discovering what would make the other’s breath hitch, what would call forth a sigh or moan. Loki thrilled at Thor’s indrawn breath when Loki caught his lower lip between his teeth; Thor chuckled low and rich when Loki gave a soft, soft sigh in reply to a kiss that between others would have seemed almost chaste. But it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t—Thor was being gentler with him than he’d ever expected anyone to be. It was a revelation to make him go weak in the knees, though he tried his hardest not to let it show. When Thor twined his fingers in his hair, then, and pulled, slightly, steadily, Loki wasn’t prepared, and he groaned breathily. “Thor,” he said, and “Thor!” again, as he bent to kiss his neck. His whole body felt like it was burning, to feel Thor’s inexorable strength turned entirely towards his pleasure—oh, could he dare to think that? Would Thor? He ground his hips, his growing arousal against Thor’s, told himself he could feel Thor even through the leather of his armor.

“Yes, Loki?” Thor murmured against his skin.

“I think it’s time for you to take me to your bed and fuck me,” Loki said.

“Tempting, very tempting,” Thor said. He moved his head back far enough to smile at Loki. “Don’t you want to draw this out, at least a little?”

“No!” Loki snapped. “It’s already been long enough!” And…yes, he had to say it, because he wanted this to be easy, and he wanted this to be clear. He couldn’t play any games right now, not with how much he  _wanted_. “And if we wait, you might well think better of it.”

Thor kissed him softly on the mouth. “I won’t. I promise. Have you often known me to back down from reckless decisions?”

“I wouldn’t want to rule out a sudden attack of wisdom when it comes to taking your brother as a lover.”

A soft, stifled sound in Thor’s throat—Loki grinned wildly to hear it. It was too delicious, a sign of a pleasure like the sweet ache of a pressed bruise, the delight inextricable from the injury, the wrongness, and it had come from Thor! “What was that?”

“Loki…”

That warning tone shouldn’t warm him like it does, but then again, neither should Thor, so it’s far too late to worry about that. “I simply want to address the evidence, Thor. And it seems, based on that evidence, that you like it when I call you brother, even when I’m also talking about my intention to fuck you. I think that’s just delightful, Thor. There’s something so awful in it. I’m not going to tell you it’s all right. Because that would take some of your pleasure away, wouldn’t it? It’s better when there’s a touch of rot underneath all the sweetness. That’s what makes my brother’s cock hard.”

“Loki, Loki,” Thor said, tangling his hands in his hair even further, his flushed face so familiarly dear and earnest. “I love you. I mean it. This isn’t about just breaking taboos for the sake of some fleeting pleasure. I love you. I love you.”

Loki shivered, closed his eyes. “Thor, stop. I…but it feels good, doesn’t it, to do something you know is so clearly wrong?”

“I don’t know if that’s why it feels good,” Thor said. “But there are much, much worse things either of us could do. I don’t think—I hope there isn’t any harm in this. If there is, for you, you must tell me. Then I’ll leave you be, never breathe a hint of this again.”

“Don’t you dare!” Loki reluctantly pushed away from Thor, fixing him with a glare. “Have I been acting like someone who’s being hurt?”

“No,” Thor admitted, “but you are skilled in acting and I have known you to hurt yourself!”

Loki took a slow breath. “Not in this, Thor. Not in this.”

“Good,” Thor said, visibly relaxing. He reached out and took Loki’s hands, working the fine bones between his strong fingers. “I want this to be special for you. I want a chance to ready things as I can—even here, on this escape ship.”

Maybe Loki would dare to wait, then. Just out of curiosity.

“And, I think that everyone expects to see us, and expects me to say something about what happened and where we’re going, sooner rather than later.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “And I was thinking that all I had to worry about was discreetly leaving your quarters. Now you expect us both to be seen by others, after what’s just transpired.”

“We both said we’d be able to keep a secret,” Thor said. “I doubt anyone would suspect.”

That was true. It wasn’t a usual thing to suspect, after all. But it wouldn’t do to not take precautions. “Comb my hair, first,” Loki said.

Thor winked at him. “Of course. But first we’ll have to see if there’s a comb anywhere around here. I didn’t quite think to grab one when we were leaving.”

Ultimately, Thor’s quarters yielded no such item, and Loki surprised himself by plainly asking Thor to arrange his hair using his fingers, instead. “Because that’s something else I’ve wanted for a long time,” he said.

“Since you stopped letting me comb your hair?” Thor asked. His fingers were deft, smoothing out loops and tangles as Loki leaned between his legs, his eyes closed.

“I suppose so, though I was a little too young for any coherent desire at that point,” Loki said. “I think that I had the vague feeling that you shouldn’t be offering such care to me, as the oldest prince.”

“That seems to go along with the rest of it,” Thor said. “And doesn’t it seem bizarre, now, from here, that it seemed so unacceptable for me to give my body in love or care, but I could use it in bloodshed for Asgard until I collapsed from exhaustion?”

“Of course,” Loki said. “But where would we be, as Asgardians, if we just lolled around combing each other’s hair all the time?”

“On Asgard, probably,” Thor said, “watching historically inaccurate plays and visiting tacky golden memorials.”

“A complete disaster, by Asgardian standards. And you only think my statue was tacky because I’m still alive.”

“Maybe so.” Thor dug his fingers into Loki’s scalp, massaging it. “Something was out of balance, though.” 

“Yes, I suppose it was,” Loki said, “but now you can try to put things right.”

“We can,” Thor said. “You need to be a part of this, too. Otherwise there won’t be any kind of balance.”

“That’s too much to offer me,” Loki said, without any real conviction. He’d talk Thor out of that later. Remind Thor that no matter what side he was working from, the main thing he did was to cause problems for the people he was working for.

“Oh, right.” Thor carefully dragged his fingers through the waves of Loki’s hair. “I forgot that I’ve only ever offered you things that were exactly appropriate and justified.”

“You can make a wiser decision later, when you’re not touching me,” Loki said.

Thor murmured something that sounded like “much later,” and Loki closed his eyes.

 

*

 

Thor said his few words to the Asgardian survivors, which Loki didn’t pay much attention to, given that they’d immediately been preceded by the decision to go to Earth, and his thoughts had been entirely taken up by trying to figure out _if_ there was a way to make that work out for him. He hadn’t come up with an answer he liked by the time he sat down with Thor, and Bruce and Valkyrie, for dinner with the other survivors, though he had admitted to himself that Earth was probably the best destination Thor could have chosen for everyone else. With that thought he tossed the problem into the back of his mind. It was a long way to Earth, and he had…certain newly-sprung hopes, that Thor hadn’t just callously forgotten the difficulties he was likely to have there. Perhaps they could even talk about it. He almost laughed aloud at the idea (with both derision _and_ joy, now), and turned his attention back to the present.

In the mess hall, the mood was mostly subdued, as could only be expected. The food was forgettable. Loki, with Thor, only garnered looks of relief. Possibly because it would be better on a spaceship if they weren’t openly fighting, and also, possibly, because as a pair, they looked to the Asgardians like a sign of stability that had only wavered in the past few years. If he hadn’t had other things on his mind, that would have made Loki’s skin itch. Him! A symbol of stability! Times couldn’t be darker if  _that_  were true.

Fortunately, Thor proved an excellent distraction from any other thoughts, as always. And Loki needed to watch him especially carefully now, to see if he really was going to be able to keep their secret. Watching Thor had always been enjoyable, but now, knowing that he wouldn’t mind being watched, knowing that if something slipped through Loki’s gaze, it was something Thor welcomed, even if he couldn’t show it around others? Oh, wonderful, wonderful!

As it turned out, Thor was excellent at acting like nothing out of the ordinary was in the offing. Surprisingly excellent. Enough so to almost make Loki wonder if he’d simply had a vivid hallucination of Thor’s mouth on his own and body in his arms. Enough so that Loki was forced to suppress a startle when Thor deliberately pressed his calf and foot against Loki’s under the narrow table.

The quick grin Thor gave him then could have been related to the rest of the conversation. Only Loki knew it wasn’t. And after it, the short meal seemed to stretch on as long as a formal banquet.

As soon as Loki thought it possible to leave without looking like he was in a hurry, which would be suspicious on a spaceship that would be travelling on autopilot through total emptiness for at least the next several days, he stood and gave some laconic excuse about having inflicted his company on them for too long.

The words he spoke were those of a ploy they’d done variations of many times before. When Loki left, he provided Thor with an excuse to follow, which meant that they would both end up at whatever location they needed to infiltrate, with Thor, of course, simply there because he’d followed Loki. If they were caught, both diplomatic and violent victories were possible, then.

Thor understood immediately—probably he’d been waiting for Loki to do something like this—and stood at once. “Wait, Loki, I need to talk to you,” he said, extricating himself from the benches.

“Come and talk to me, then,” Loki said. “It  _can_  be done anywhere, I’ve heard.” He didn’t look back. He wasn’t flirting. He was being sarcastic with his brother, as everyone here would find ordinary. This was how the plan worked. He wouldn’t add a come-hither glace over his shoulder, or say anything laden with double entendres, even though he wanted to. Even if it felt necessary. He would just keep walking. He already had Thor’s love. Thor  _would_  follow. He would. Wouldn’t he?

Loki was more relieved than he’d care to admit when he heard Thor giving a few hurried farewells and the heavy step of his boots behind him.

 

*

 

 “What did you need to talk to me about?” Loki murmured, as soon as they were in a mostly deserted corridor.

“Many, many things,” Thor answered, his voice equally soft. “Come to my quarters in two hours if you want to hear them. If you decide not to…the conversation will be closed forever. I promise.”

“That’s not what I want you to promise me,” Loki said. “I’ll be there. And you had better be ready for me.”

“I intend to be,” Thor said, giving him a smile that warmed Loki from head to toe before striding away.

 

*

 

Loki had spent long hours before. Imprisonment and torture had taught hard lessons in how time could stretch. Waiting for what he had hopelessly desired for century upon century taught a further, advanced course.

He bathed, though he couldn’t make that last two hours, even with the most scrupulous attention to detail. Even officer quarters on this kind of ship weren’t really set up with that sort of luxury in mind. And what could be done with basic supplies was, well, basic. He wouldn’t be presenting himself to Thor the way he did in some of his fantasies, skin soft with perfumed oil, his hair tumbling to his back in glossy waves. He  _could_  create that illusion for Thor, but Thor would recognize it as an illusion as it was impossible under the circumstances, Thor might not even appreciate it, as he’d always had a frustrating allegiance to physical reality, with all its imperfections, and finally, if he really was going to get fucked by Thor, he wanted to experience it fully, not worry about maintaining an illusion.

And Thor really, most likely, wouldn’t mind.

Loki still frowned at the bruises and small cuts that he’d accumulated during the recent battle. They’d be gone in a day and a half, at most—the bruises at least—but that didn’t do him any good now. He just needed a small jar of all-heal to make him look less mottled, and more importantly, make it so he wouldn’t need to ask Thor to be careful of any way he wanted to hold or grab him.

And while he was wishing for things, he might as well wish for a bottle of finest mead to bring to Thor’s chambers—no, quarters. They were on a ship full of refugees, not in a palace.

Loki stopped poking at a bruise on his thigh and rolled his eyes. The prospect of Thor’s love must have addled him more than he thought. This was a refugee ship, yes, but it was full of Asgardian refugees, and some of them had had bags with them that contained whatever they thought was most worth bringing with them in the face of doom. Some of them had all-heal with them, and maybe more of them had particularly fine bottles of mead. The only question was if Loki had enough time to convince any of them to engage in a friendly game of chance.

He dressed quickly, glancing at the time on the bedroom wall’s display screen. Forty-five minutes. All right. Not exactly plenty of time, but that just added an element of challenge. A thankful distraction. He wouldn’t even cheat unless he was  _really_  about to run out of time.

 

*

 

When Thor opened the door to his quarters, Loki was immediately wrong-footed. Somehow, in the past hour, Thor had acquired a better eyepatch—reasonable—and a completely new set of clothes, which was not at all reasonable, and also unfair. Thor now wore a pair of loose, light, flowing trousers in a slightly shimmering gray, and a deep red tunic in the same light material, with a deeply cut lace-up neck (now laced extremely loosely), and a belt of braided gold and silver leather. He was relaxed, and smiling, and any being with any level of sentience would go weak in the knees for Thor like this. Loki even detected a touch of amber and sandalwood in the air, and could barely begin to articulate his feelings about that. Was it just better soap? Or had Thor somehow gotten his hands on the perfumed oils that featured in Loki’s fantasies? The slight sheen on his arms where they emerged from the short sleeves of his tunic indicated the latter. Loki’s face heated with both desire and deep embarrassment. True, he had a reputation of being shameless, but he couldn’t ignore that he’d arrived in armor he hadn’t had time to properly clean, smelling of cheap soap and all-heal (the salve didn’t smell  _bad_ , but it was a childhood medicinal smell and  _not_  what he would have gone for if he’d had a choice) and carrying a bottle of alcohol as if to make up for the shabbiness of the rest.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

“Do you want to come in?” Thor asked.

Right. They were both lucky the corridor had been empty for even this long. “Of course I do,” Loki said. He ducked into the room, a spark running up his spine with the hiss of the closing door. “How in the world did you get those clothes? You know you don’t need to put in that much effort.”

“Just because I know that you want me doesn’t mean I don’t want to look good for our assignation,” Thor said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Loki’s lips. “Speaking of effort, if that bottle is what I think it is, I’m not the one who put the most work in, just now.”

Loki looked down at the bottle he was holding as if he hardly knew what it was.

“I…no, it wasn’t difficult to get this. I won it in a dice game. I didn’t even need to cheat.”

“So it wasn’t difficult to convince the former owner to put it up for a bet?”

“Of course not. I’ve talked more people into bad bets than some sentient beings have breaths in a lifetime. Now tell me where you got the clothes.”

Thor smiled. “I thought it might be nice not to wear armor that had recently been in a battle during our journey to Midgard, so I asked around to see if anyone had anything they might spare. Luckily, they did.”

Loki sighed. That was ultimately the difference between him and Thor, wasn’t it? People would just give things to Thor if he asked. Loki had to scheme for everything he managed to get.

“But, I guessed that you wouldn’t like any imbalance between us,” Thor said. He turned and picked up a soft bundle from the small table behind him. “I hope you like them. I did my best, but there weren’t really a lot of options. Trade you? I’ll pour.”

Oh. Yes. Except for Thor. Thor would always be generous with him, it seemed, no matter what. He handed over the bottle of mead and grabbed the bundle of clothes from Thor, as if expecting them to be snatched away, though he really didn’t.

“Careful,” Thor said. “There’s more than just clothes there.” He gave Loki an odd, gentle smirk. “Considering how we both hope for this night to go, I’d say you don’t need to leave the room to change, but maybe that’s not how you planned to show me yourself.”

“Oh, plans,” Loki said. “I don’t have a plan. I have—fantasies.” He shook himself and gave Thor a careless grin. “I’ll make you remove my armor some other time.”

“You’ll have to be fast, to force me before I offer,” Thor said. “Do you think the cups here are clean? After the Grandmaster’s ship I’d feel better just passing the bottle—”

“You’re mad to offer me anything,” Loki said, and retreated into the small bathroom, cursing the honesty Thor called from him.

“I—I’ll be in the bedroom,” Thor called, easily heard over the door sliding shut. No slamming for emphasis on this ship.

Loki took a deep breath, set the clothes next to the sink, and clenched and unclenched his hands. He was fucking this up. He wasn’t fucking this up. He was fucking this up because he wasn’t seducing Thor, but he wasn’t fucking this up because Thor didn’t need to be seduced. Thor’s love was running underneath all of this.

He did his best to appease his instinct to run (to hurt Thor, so Thor wouldn’t know how much he wanted him) by shucking his armor as quickly as he could. It was tempting to stall by taking another shower to wash off the all-heal, but what if Thor took that as a sign he was afraid? Absolutely ghastly, even if Thor didn’t tease him about it. Because, worse, Thor might take it as a sign that they shouldn’t fuck at all, and Loki absolutely refused to let that happen. They were both so close. Thor was already in the bedroom.

With hands that weren’t exactly steady, Loki opened the bundle of clothing to see what Thor hadn’t wanted to fall out. And even though he wasn’t exactly surprised by the presence of two small bottles of scented skin oil, his heart leaped as if he was.

One was definitely what Thor had used, a warm scent full of polished wood and musk. The other…it was a fresher, cooler scent, reminding Loki of the woods outdoors at the very end of winter, at the very beginning of spring. There was the sharpness of new growth, but underneath it, the deep earthiness of rich soil growing saturated with meltwater. There was, too, a subtle animal smell, reminding him of creatures stirring, waking, rejoining the world full of many hungers.

It wasn’t the sort of thing Loki would have chosen for an assignation. When he chose bed partners as a prince, the scents he presented his lovers with tended to be heady, incense-like, heavy and intoxicating. If they dared to dream of him, he would give them an experience as strange and vivid and unreal as a dream. He hadn’t hidden this habit. If Thor had an association between Loki and sex based on a particular kind of scent, it wouldn’t be the one he had in his hand now. And though there couldn’t have been many options, this wild, wintery oil wasn’t the kind of thing that was very popular on Asgard. Wilderness was a characteristic of places Asgard conquered.

Loki shrugged and poured a little of the perfumed oil into his palm. If there was any wilderness in Asgard, he was part of it. And if Thor had…if Thor had rejected what Loki had always presented to others, to give him this—Loki shivered as he worked the oil into the skin of his arms. That would mean that Thor saw the wildness within him and thought it was a fine thing, deserving of celebration. It might even mean that Loki did have a true self, underneath every role he’d played, and that Thor had been able to see that self more often than not. This wasn’t a shocking revelation, just something that Loki had denied for a long time. But what was the point of denying it now, when he knew Thor not only knew him, but loved him?

The oils Thor had found for them were light, flowed easily, and worked cleanly into the skin. Beautifully smooth, the fragrance never overpowering—by the time he’d finished treating his own skin, pushing away the smell of all-heal and making himself glow like well-loved ivory, he was warm all over with latent arousal. The new clothes wouldn’t cover him for long. But maybe it was still best to start that way. Let it take longer. This was Thor. He didn’t want it to be quick. He didn’t want it to be gotten over with.

The pants were like Thor’s, pearly gray, soft, and loose, and doubtless meant as an under layer, Loki realized. Something this fine would never have been so plain if it was meant to be seen. Oh well. No one would have ever given Thor dirty clothes. The shirt was a blue that was nearly green, and probably would be in warmer lights. It was long sleeved, with a neck that fell even deeper than that on Thor’s shirt, with no indication that any laces had ever existed. All the edges were embroidered with a jagged geometric pattern in gold thread, which ended up contrasting curiously with the belt Thor had found, made of large, thin gold disks that overlapped like scales. It settled just above his hips, a surprisingly perfect fit.

When he saw himself in the mirror, he had to pause. The clothes were, again, not the sort of things he would wear to assignations, but they were also notably different from what he’d worn in any of the other roles he’d taken on over the years. They were far simpler, of course, but more notably, they didn’t make him look smaller or bigger than he actually was. For a long time, it had been socially useful for him to dress to appear significantly smaller than Thor, and then, at other times, he’d done his best to appear broader and more powerful than he really was. But all of that was swept away now, leaving only his own true form, a form that Thor had professed willing to love.

If he felt naked now, what would it be like without the clothes?

But perhaps it was time to start being more concerned about what Thor would be like. Loki wouldn’t control the fantasy this time. He smiled at the thought, and knew he was finally ready to carry on with this wonderful, terrible idea.

 

*

 

“Loki,” Thor said warmly, as soon as he appeared in the doorway. “You look wonderful.”

“And I no longer smell like a child about to be tucked in after a day of rough play,” Loki said.

“All-heal’s for more than that,” Thor said, closing the distance between them. 

“Very well, but neither is it something particularly…”

“Romantic?” Thor suggested.

“I mean, it isn’t, but is that what we have here?”

“Well, it’s not casual. I’m fairly confident of that.”

“No,” Loki said, “but neither is this what comes to mind when one is asked to picture a romance. What we have is…different, to say the least.”

“But it’s still all of love,” Thor said. Simply. Honestly.

Loki looked away. Why couldn’t Thor have just grabbed him and thrown him on the bed? That would have been easy to think about, easy to experience. What  _was_  he supposed to do with not only Thor’s desire, but also Thor’s love? It wasn’t easy, even now, to take something that he knew the true worth of, even as it was so freely offered. Because it was so freely offered.

The room itself offered no escape from these heavy thoughts. It was well-appointed as officer’s quarters, but lacking any interest because of that. Still, it looked as though Thor had found a few extra pillows to place on the bed—all a rich, dark blue, one of the ship’s colors—as well as a control panel for the lights that did more than just switch them on or off, as the light was far more golden in here than it was in the bathroom or the quarters’ public room. The little changes showed care. It was unbelievably frustrating. To finally have Thor’s care, and then to realize he had no idea what to do about it.

“Are you trying to make me skittish?”

“No, I’m trying to do the exact opposite of that,” Thor said. He poured mead into a pair of glasses and handed one to Loki. “Or is that the problem? You were bolder before—I don’t want you to feel trapped now.”

“I’ve never felt less trapped,” Loki said, turning to face Thor again. “Perhaps that’s what’s thrown me. And this is nothing like any of my fantasies.”

“I’m sure I have two eyes in them,” Thor said, his mouth twisting into something that didn’t quite manage to become a smile.

It was like a sharp gust of wind through Loki’s maze of thoughts. Was he here to be a fantasy, or reconstruct one of his own fantasies? Was he here to untangle everything that had made him and Thor who they were over the past centuries? No and no. He was here because he loved Thor. More than anyone, and in a way he knew he shouldn’t, but in a way that he now knew Thor loved him, too. That was what was real, and if it was terrifying to be without illusion, so be it.

“That’s only the most minor detail,” Loki said. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, twining his free arm around Thor’s waist. “You’re better now. You’re better now than you’ve ever been in so many ways. And I’m here because I want all the love that you’ll give to me.” It was wonderful to feel Thor’s breath quicken at that, and Loki pressed himself even closer.

“A toast, then,” Thor said quietly. “To Loki, my love.”

“To Thor, my love!” Loki said, suddenly wild and too loud, almost breaking Thor’s glass with his own. Thor froze, surprised, and Loki laughed. “I’ve toasted you so many times; I’m going to show enthusiasm now that I finally feel it!” He drained his glass in one draught, which wasn’t recommended for this particular mead, and laughed again as the deceptiveness of the smooth, sweet taste of honey was revealed in an immediate, pleasant, loosening of his limbs.

Against him, Thor relaxed and gave a laugh of his own, before following suit. “No more until we’ve worked up a thirst though, right?”

“Don’t worry, Thor, I’ll fuck you sober—or at least relatively so,” Loki said. He grinned, and then, because he could, because he wanted to, and because he didn’t need any more reason than that, he leaned forward and kissed Thor. Tasting the mead on Thor’s mouth was more intoxicating than the alcohol itself, and Loki didn’t care for the way that Thor still had the presence of mind to put the glasses somewhere they wouldn’t break, even if he didn’t actually want broken glass all over the floor.    

He brought his hands to the sides of Thor’s face and deepened the kiss between them. The trick to this wasn’t really a trick, save that it had always seemed to be less common knowledge than he would have guessed. You had to kiss like you had no guarantee that anything else was going to happen between you and the person you were kissing, to not hold anything back for later, to not act like the pleasure between you was something finite to be preserved.

If Loki hadn’t known this already, he would have figured it out while kissing Thor. And if Thor hadn’t known this already, he certainly figured it out quickly while kissing Loki.

They’d had a taste of each other before, yes, but now they both knew that they had the time to enjoy each other, savor each other, and Loki felt as though he was being burned by sweet, sweet fire with every one of Thor’s kisses. He wasn’t rough, as Loki had sometimes imagined, and he wasn’t selfish, as he’d also sometimes imagined. He was confident but mindful, enough of his attention devoted to any little tell from Loki that showed what he especially liked that with every moment Loki was learning more and more about what it was like to be undone by a kiss.

And Loki could only hope Thor was learning the same thing from him, though he barely felt able to stand on his own, now, much less use any conscious skill to kiss Thor the way he should be kissed. No matter. No matter. Thor held him close, one arm wrapped up around his shoulders, one curled around his waist. He could feel the hot press of Thor’s thickening cock between his thigh and his own, and he knew Thor must be able to feel him, too. What a relief it was, to be so close to Thor and not have to hide any arousal he felt.

“Thor,” he breathed, when Thor released his mouth to kiss along his jaw. “Take off my belt, Thor. Take off your own. Take me to bed.”

His hands were fast and unerring, and this time he cared nothing for where things landed. Loki smiled, then yelped when Thor scooped him up, arms under his back and knees. “Showoff,” he said, looping his arms around Thor’s neck.

“I knew you’d appreciate it,” Thor said. He carried Loki the few steps to the bed and laid him down—not like he was made of glass, but in a gentler way than Loki had imagined in what he had considered his more realistic fantasies. Thor gave him no time to puzzle that out, naturally, but climbed onto the bed instead, his knees to either side of Loki’s hips. He grinned, and Loki could only stare, transfixed, as Thor loosened the laces of his shirt with one casual hand and then lifted the garment over his head and cast it aside.

Thor shone. Of course he shone, that was what the oil had been for, but the inner light that Thor always seemed to carry with him seemed even stronger now, as he straddled Loki, half-naked and obviously aroused. Then again, maybe Loki was simply addled by his own love.

“Do I meet with your approval?” Thor asked, grinning cheekily at what Loki realized must be a stupidly stunned expression.

“I would gladly kill anyone who described you as less than perfection,” Loki said. “And you’re also obviously dehydrated.”

“I’ve been preoccupied by things other than water,” Thor said easily. He slipped his hands under the hem of Loki’s shirt. “May I?”

“You’d better,” Loki said.

Thor eased the shirt upwards, and though it was done less easily than it would have been done in a fantasy, Loki was glad to get lost in the extra touches that were needed, the extra movements of their bodies together as he became barer and barer for Thor. Still, he wasn’t quite expecting such a dreamy smile on Thor’s face by the time his shirt had finally joined Thor’s on the floor. “Well,” Loki said, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, “do I meet with your approval?”

“You’re beautiful,” Thor said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so uncovered.”

“Good thing I dealt with all the bruises before coming here,” Loki said.

Thor shook his head as he swung his leg over Loki and lay down next to him. “You’d still be beautiful even with bruises.”

“Why, Thor,” Loki said with a smirk, and Thor groaned.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind Loki’s ear. “I meant that bruises would be a minor detail.”

“Oh,” Loki said softly. He blinked, shivered. “Let me touch you.”

“Only if I may do the same.”

“You’d better.”

Loki’s hands on Thor’s skin; Thor’s hands on Loki’s skin. Mouths only on what was yet exposed. Oh, they were taking this slowly, so terribly slowly, but the journey was astoundingly rich. Thor’s oiled skin was soft under Loki’s fingertips, a delicious contrast with the firm tension of the muscles that contracted and relaxed beneath it. All that power, his for tasting, his for touching, and here to love him. But even the pleasure of touching Thor was second to the bliss of Thor touching him. Thor’s hands moved slow and thorough, ever-so-slightly roughened with calluses even Asgardian care could not perfectly remove. His nerves sang under every touch, and when Thor moved to kiss and nip at his neck, he fairly keened. “I suspected you’d be sensitive there,” Thor said, his lips moving against his throat.

“It’s a twisted, conditioned response,” Loki said breathily. “You always go for the throat when we fight. Did you ever stop to think about how intimate that kind of attack is?”

“I tried not to,” Thor said. “But sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep…”

The sentence apparently wasn’t worth finishing, as Thor returned to sucking at Loki’s neck, narrowing his world to the workings of his hot, wet lips and tongue, and the brush of his beard around them, a contrast that sent lovely shivers racing up and down Loki’s spine. How he’d love to wear that shirt Thor had found for him after this, that open neck displaying every pretty mark Thor’s love had left on him. But he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t, not when he wanted this to happen again and again and again. He gripped Thor’s golden shoulders and hooked one leg around Thor’s. He wasn’t planning to simply rut against Thor until he came like some foolish and inexperienced youth, but every movement of Thor’s mouth made him more desperate for some kind of relief, some kind of friction.

The quiet sound Thor made was one Loki felt more than heard, and as good as a command for Loki to quickly roll his hips. Thor chuckled, then, and one of his hands skimmed down Loki’s body, a delicious slide. This time, however, he didn’t stop at what was already uncovered, slipping his hand beyond Loki’s waistband to loosely grip his cock.

“Mind if I finally get my hands on this?” he asked, giving Loki the light, short strokes he could while the clothing remained. Loki froze, not even breathing, but only for a moment.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes! But I want to see you do it.”

He caught Thor’s grin, and in seconds his pants were on the floor. “Well, aren’t you gorgeous,” Thor said, settling down again beside Loki. “Forgive me for not worshipping your legs now, as there are other things that tempt me.”

“I hate how coherent you are right now,” Loki said, as Thor pressed a random kiss to his chest and returned his hand to Loki’s cock. His grip was firmer now, his strokes long, and when Loki managed enough focus to bring his attention to Thor’s face again, he glared at the cheeky grin he found there.

“I’m sure that you have things planned that will leave me totally unable to form words,” Thor said, carefully rubbing his thumb over the slick head of Loki’s cock. “But I had this idea, that since you’ve wanted me for so long, and since you’re, well, you, that you might start overthinking being naked right now, and instead of that I’d like to do what I could to make sure that you were just experiencing the pleasure—the care—that’s the whole point of this.” And he leaned forward and kissed Loki deeply, his hand never abating.

“It’s—it’s completely insupportable for you to be that insightful,” Loki said when Thor broke the kiss.

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty new for me, so I guess I don’t know when I should do it,” Thor said, and Loki rolled his eyes. Thor grinned at him, gave him an extra squeeze, which caused his eyes to go back in his head for an entirely different reason. “Maybe it would be better if I didn’t say anything for a while.”

“Maybe,” Loki agreed. “And maybe that will allow you to devote some more attention to what your hands are doing.”

“Ah, true, but my hands are very familiar with this sort of thing,” Thor said, and as Loki watched the wonderfully tortuous movement of Thor’s gorgeous hand on his cock, he couldn’t find anything to contradict, there. “I might still end up running my mouth. But don’t worry. I know what to do.” He pushed a pillow off the bed, which Loki first thought was just an accident, then followed it himself.

Without Thor’s hand on him, it was easier to think and start to puzzle out what Thor thought he was doing, but Loki realized he must have still been relying on some obviously baseless assumptions, as a shocked thrill ran through him when Thor manhandled and maneuvered his legs off the edge of the bed. “Thor, are you—” he began, and laughed wildly as Thor set the pillow on the floor between where Loki’s feet rested. Not only was it becoming undeniable that Thor was about to suck his cock, it was also apparent that he’d sucked enough cocks to have ideas on how to make the process more comfortable for himself. 

Loki soon stopped laughing when Thor settled himself, however. Thor looked up at him with a little smile, pushing his knees apart, caressing his way up Loki’s thighs with strong, warm hands.

“I know it’s pretty obvious that I’ve done this before,” Thor said, “but we’re both well aware I’ve never done it with you. So if there are things I can do to give you more pleasure—well, I’m open to taking instruction. I only want to please you right now, Loki.”

Loki took a shaky breath. He could swear that he’d felt the breath from Thor’s last few words on his cock, and his mind was racing with all the improbabilities that this moment seemed to contain. But none of those improbabilities had to be resolved now, did they? Just because it was more likely now that Thor would do what he wanted didn’t mean that it would be less fun to direct him. An easy and familiar smirk settled on his face, and he reached out a hand that hardly trembled at all to brush through Thor’s hair. “Put your mouth on my cock and we’ll see if the mighty Thor needs any guidance from there.”

And with absolutely no hesitation, Thor did. That alone was enough to make Loki do his hurried best to retreat from the physical sensations—Thor’s hand, lightly slick with the oil Loki had rubbed onto his thighs, wrapping around the base of his cock, Thor’s mouth surrounding the head with a breathtaking wet heat—which were overwhelming enough on their own. Once he found some small thread of control, though, he at once returned all his physical focus to everything Thor was doing. He refused, absolutely refused to miss any of this, even if it meant that he wouldn’t last as long as he would have if he’d continued to purposely distance himself. This was no time to deny himself in an effort to impress.

His breathing grew fast and heavy as Thor worked his cock, taking him ever deeper into his mouth. Thor sucked, Thor licked, Thor gripped and stroked and fondled. It was so undeniably  _Thor_  who touched him, took him, and Loki’s heart pounded as if he’d been running for hours. Thor the crown prince, Thor the new king, Thor the god of thunder, Thor his nemesis, Thor his brother—Loki brought his hand to his mouth and bit his forefinger; there was nothing else he could have done at the moment, though this did nothing to muffle the moan rising from his throat. Such sweet satisfaction here, such a longed-for consummation, such an undeniable abomination. And to get here, with Thor on his knees before him, it had been so easy! It had been Thor’s idea! No sucker bets, no games of bravado, no bargains or trades or pleas. Loki had considered what was happening now one of his wilder fantasies, but now, with the argument Thor’s lips and tongue and mouth were making, it was hard to imagine why it had seemed so impossible before.

Loki twisted his hands in the blankets, trying to let go even more into the wondrous reality and pleasure of the now. It wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped it might be, but that was only the fault of him and his history. Pleasure hadn’t often been his sole motive when having sex, and because of this he’d rarely asked or allowed his partners to give him head. It made him too vulnerable, too tempted to get lost in the sensations and lose track of what his partner was doing, and it left him owing his partner in some subtle way. Loki had never been concerned with total reciprocity, but it had been much better for favors if he did enough for his partners that they constantly felt themselves in deep sexual debt to him.

To take so freely, so greedily from Thor was against what he’d long thought of as his nature, but now wasn’t the time to look to any kind of nature, was it? And this wasn’t the same as taking on a debt, because Thor was giving, he was giving so, so much, and Loki would accept this, could accept this; he could relax into the rapture of this generosity. “Thor,” he breathed, “Thor, Thor, this is wonderful, amazing, so, so good—”

Thor hummed a small, questioning sound that made Loki moan. Then, maddeningly, he stopped his rhythm to slowly pull back until just the head of Loki’s cock was in his mouth. For delicious moments he lavished the head with the kind of care that made Loki’s hips twitch and made him resolve to have sex with Thor with a cunt as soon as he had time to change his form. But then, Thor pulled away completely, to give Loki a cheeky smile that his reddened lips made enticingly obscene. “Any more particulars I should know?” he asked, lightly tracing a finger up the underside of Loki’s cock. “What should I do to help you come?”

Loki stared at him, stunned again, wishing he could stop being stunned, and probably would have continued staring for far too long, had not his need circumvented the tangle of his thoughts. “Put my cock in your mouth again,” he said. “I want to see if you can swallow all of it. I want you to look at me when you do.”

“As you wish,” Thor said.

He didn’t try to meet Loki’s challenge immediately, again working his way down, and working Loki up. Loki had been close, and now he was very close again. He had to—he had to distract himself while Thor worked, and as he so often did, he turned to words. “I never—never thought you’d do this so willingly for me, but now that I see you like this, it’s so, so easy to believe; you look beautiful with my cock in your mouth; there’s a gift in your lips and a yet greater one in your tongue; talent or long practice, either way, it’s good, so good, give me all you can, take all you can, I—Thor the way you feel—”

No description followed, for Thor swallowed him then, all the way to the root, gripping his thighs as one eye met two, as his throat worked around his cock. Loki’s cry of ecstasy was wordless as he came, shuddering, wanting to arch his spine, throw his head back, but at the same time wanting to keep his eyes on Thor, who’d closed his eye as he kept sucking, kept swallowing, drawing every last drop from Loki as if there’d never been any question of him doing so.

When it was truly too much, Loki gently pushed Thor away with an arm that felt almost boneless. “Come up onto the bed,” Loki said, with only slightly more effort than normal needed to make sure all the words came out right. His body was telling him that now was the time for a short doze, but he simply couldn’t indulge in that right now. After that he  _must_ reciprocate. There was no question of it. Not when it was Thor he’d be giving back to.

Thor took off his own pants, finally, and lay down beside Loki, who was still sitting, still somewhat dazed. Nude, Thor drew his gaze, of course. His legs were as stunningly sculpted as his arms, and his thighs especially would demand a look, or hand, or mouth to linger there, save for the attention also drawn by his erect cock.

Obviously, sucking off Loki hadn’t dampened his arousal, and, well. Noting that sent a new little curl of thrill through Loki’s stomach. More to the point though, that cock—well, it wasn’t  _particularly_  outsize, not for a tall man like Thor, but if Loki hadn’t had the experience he did, the anticipation he felt knowing that it was soon going to be inside him might well be mixed with a fair portion of apprehension. 

“Hey. Come over here,” Thor said, lightly tugging on Loki’s arm. As Loki wasn’t in a resistive mood, he easily tumbled back to lie beside Thor.

 _Soon, soon_ , his nerves sang, and he thought about asking Thor to wait for his refractory period to end, as that would make it much more enjoyable for him, but he didn’t want to ask Thor to wait, not after what he’d just done. He also didn’t want to ask Thor to wait because he was fairly confident that Thor  _would_  wait. Loki couldn’t give him too many opportunities to be a generous lover, even if that was his habit.

Even if, lying next to him, he couldn’t think about anything else. “You swallowed my come,” Loki said. He didn’t want it to be a question, because making it a question was giving just a little more reinforcement to the Asgardian ideals Thor had expressed dissatisfaction with, but he felt he had to say something, all the same, even if the attempt at neutrality resulted in banality.

“And I’d do it again,” Thor said. He smirked. “Would it have been more princely to spit?”

Loki groaned and made a face. “Well, when you put it that way, everything behind that bland statement seems rather stupid.” He slid his eyes back to Thor. “You’ve had this exact conversation before, haven’t you?”

“Close enough to,” Thor said. “Sometimes it was just an opening to say that perhaps we’d better both have a more traditional drink before anything else went on.”

Loki felt his cheeks heat slightly. “If you want to, you should. I think I want to be completely sober for whatever you want to do next.” He turned on his side and reached out a hand, resting it on Thor’s chest. “And I do mean  _whatever_  you want.” There. He felt on much firmer ground, now. “I am your plaything, Thor.”

But Thor insisted on going off-script, and laughed and pulled Loki on top of him and into a sloppy, bitter-sweet kiss. “Stay in the moment, Loki, alright?”

“I  _am_ ,” Loki insisted, which wasn’t exactly true, but it seemed far more important to contradict Thor than to be one hundred percent honest. “I’m in the moment of offering myself to you, completely, and the least you could do is take it seriously!”

Thor gave him another quick kiss. “Well, now you’re starting to.”

Loki glared at him.

“You know what I mean,” Thor said.

Loki glared at him more, enough so that he knew the expression would have gone over the edge to comical. “Fine! I get it! You don’t want me as a plaything, I’m more than a plaything, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera! And no framework is going to work here because we both know each other too fucking well. The facts, though, still remain. You just gave me an astonishingly good blowjob. You remain impressively hard. I want to do whatever I need to to give you an orgasm just as good, if not better, because even if you beat me in all other measures, and even considering what you have implied to me, I still think I have dedicated more of my time to fucking than you. And since this is not a fantasy and you have somehow learned politeness, finally, I need to ask exactly what you want because you will not simply take it. So how do you want me? Tell me! Prove that you want me to give you pleasure! That you’ll accept that from me!”

“Loki,” Thor sighed, reaching up and stroking Loki’s hair. “I do want you. I will put myself entirely in your hands. But perhaps you will understand if I say that any fantasies you had about me being a rough, forceful, overwhelming lover—well, you’re not the only one who had such fantasies. If someone had that fixed idea about me, even if—I’m explaining this badly. The point is, these fantasies were fine for those who had them, but I was the one our mother saved by telling me timely what it could mean that Asgardians had been so trained to obey royal whims.”

“Oh,” Loki said. “So I’m not the only one you gave a thousand chances to run away to before finally meeting in bed?”

“In truth, I have been the most cautious with you, considering our unique situation.”

“Curious, considering that I’m the one person you  _know_  would not hesitate to stab you if I was displeased with the current goings-on.”

“Fair, but in most cases one needs a knife to stab someone.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Never assume I’m without a knife, Thor.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “And  _that’s_  what has you reviving after our conversation had you flagging?”

“Your knifework is quite impressive when it’s not directed against me,” Thor said, and kissed the corner of his jaw.

Loki scoffed. “What do you want me to do, Thor?”

“Tease me,” Thor murmured, pulling Loki higher so he could start to kiss down his throat.

“Yeah, all right,” Loki said. “Should I bring up the tablecloth incident or that time with the frogs?”

Thor laughed against him. “How did you even bring those to mind? Everything involved—it was so deeply, deeply unerotic.”

“I don’t know,” Loki said. “We don’t know what the frogs thought.”

Thor groaned in annoyance. “Loki, I—I wouldn’t have you any other way,  _truly_ , but—”

“No, no, I’m listening now,” Loki said. “I’m listening as intently as you’re grabbing my ass.”

“I want you to tease me,” Thor said, “and you know what I mean, I know you do. And though well I know it’s a dangerous thing to say to you, I want you to torture me. You say you were desperate for me for so long—make me just as desperate for you, even now with us in the same bed together. Take as long as seems right. And then, since I’m sure you’ll be ready by then…I want you to fuck me so that I can know if what felt so good in my mouth feels just as good in my ass.”

At this moment, Loki could have frozen up. He could have gotten lost in another thought-maze, built of his assumptions about himself and Thor, of the expectations he hadn’t bothered to question. He could say some or all of these things aloud, and get caught up in another painful conversation with Thor, who obviously did not want that. He could have acted like he had something better to offer, and done his best to persuade Thor to fuck him instead.

And it was a close thing. But he’d told Thor that he could have whatever he wanted, and he’d meant it, now that he had the chance to offer. So now, it wasn’t time to think. It was time to play—with Thor as the plaything. If it was an unexpected opportunity, it  _definitely_  wasn’t one to be squandered.

He pushed up from Thor and knelt above him, his limbs caging him. “Oh, Thor,” he said, bending down, bending ever closer to Thor’s mouth but with no intention of kissing him right now. “I can do that.” 

He gave Thor a genuine smile—a wicked smile, but his most genuine smiles were also his most wicked smiles—but that was all, before removing himself from both Thor and the bed. “Stand up, Thor,” he said. “It’ll be easier for me to get at all of you that way.”

A slight shudder ran all through the powerful muscles of Thor’s body, and Loki watched with delight as he obediently stood. He settled with his arms loosely by his sides, his feet shoulder-width apart, clearly ready to be got at. “It’s almost misdirection,” Loki said musingly. “Not always conscious, and not completely so—but enough to potentially cause quite a bit of misinterpretation. I know I fell for it now and then.” He stepped behind Thor and rested his hands lightly on either side of his neck. “Your perfect body, Thor,” he said, brushing his thumbs up and down either side of his spine. “Your physical prowess is undeniable to anyone who knows you, and you  _do_  often rely on it. Your handsome face, your ease of manner—these help you as well.” Loki slid his hands up so that they cupped the sides of Thor’s head. “Even in these heated circumstances, I believe you already know what I’m talking about. Your mind, Thor. Hardly anyone thinks about your mind.”

“I’m justly included in that group of anyone for a significant amount of time,” Thor said.

Loki made a soft sound of amusement. “True. Now hush. If you’re letting me have my way with you I only want you to make the sounds you feel you must, not words.” Thor nodded, and Loki smiled behind him. “Now, where was I?” He gently massaged Thor’s scalp. “Your mind, Thor—I can hardly say more because I’ve been remiss in noticing it myself, because for a long time you had no need of it as your first tool, and luckily for everyone, it doesn’t work like mine. I underestimated you because if there was only one thing I was superior to you in, I wanted that gap to be wide. And so, now, even when you put yourself in my hands, under my will, all I can do is focus on an aspect of you that I ignored before and now still have no access to—in part due to my own commands.”

He kissed the back of Thor’s neck. “Typical of me, I suppose. But no matter. I believe there is still much about your body I have yet to properly explore, and that is just as sweet, considering how long it was forbidden to me.” He moved his hands so that just the fingertips rested lightly on Thor’s shoulders. “I will make sure to keep my touches light, of course. Gentle. Even if I am to torture you now, I would not want to be excessively cruel.”

A slightly louder exhale from Thor, but that was all. It was still enough for Loki to know that Thor knew that light and gentle touches weren’t going to make this “torture” milder. But he remained still under Loki’s hands, a gift. Loki grinned and brushed one finger down Thor’s spine. He could accept gifts now. He could. He would.

It was a unique pleasure, both intellectual and sexual, to explore Thor’s body like this, as if his curiosity was a cool, distant thing, yet at the same time remaining deeply aware of how he could make Thor twitch, or quietly gasp, or raise goosebumps on Thor’s skin with just the lightest touch. “You haven’t actually been touched very much, have you?” Loki said, intently observing his reactions to a little attention on the insides of his forearms, his palms, his fingers. “Or not everywhere.” Thor kept his promise to remain silent, but Loki grew more confident of what he’d said as he went on touching him. “Everyone, I’m sure, would want to touch your biceps, your chest, your stomach. But what about your sides? Has your waist been gripped more than caressed? Have you gathered more bruises than kisses there throughout the years? I will kiss you there, Thor. I will kiss you everywhere…eventually.”

Another sharp breath, and Loki knelt, but to Thor’s side, as if there was no temptation to give up the game and take Thor’s cock into his mouth. “And what about your legs,” Loki murmured. “I’m sure they’ve been appreciated for what they’ve helped you do, but has everyone learned how to make you gasp just by touching your thigh? Has anyone taken on the challenge of your calf? Has anyone else taken it upon themselves to discover how the nerves of your feet make their way through your body and where they root in your brain?”

Loki brushed his fingers, feather-light, along what he could reach of the arch of Thor’s foot while he still stood. This got him the closest to sound that he had been so far, and he smiled. “Perhaps someone has,” he purred. “But if they ever did, they are long gone, and now only I am here.” He moved with studied grace to Thor’s other side. 

“How well do you demand I torture you, Thor?” Loki asked, as his fingers began their journey up his leg. He left kisses almost too light to be felt on Thor’s thigh, then immediately brushed them away with his fingertips. “I said I could do it, and I  _am_  pleased to tease you…” He stood smoothly. “But I grow impatient, too.” He took Thor’s hand. “Be still, but see?” He moved Thor’s carefully pliant hand to wrap around his once-again hard cock. But only for a moment. “To have your body free for me to look at, to touch—you’re exquisite, Thor, and you make me greedy. This play of light touches, of kisses that don’t quite connect—I do love to see you shudder, to see you shiver, to see how something simple like my hand on your arm can make your cock jerk, if I press just a little harder than I have been. And I do wonder if you could come under such torture. That wouldn’t be something you bargained for, would it? That I would change the game like that, trying to see if you could come, barely touched, but, well…still with far more touch than you thought you could ask your brother for, right?” He hummed. “Would you be able to endure that entire experiment? I wonder. And I’m going to have to keep wondering, because  _I_  would not be able to endure it.”

Loki had moved to stand behind Thor once more, and now he reached up and gripped Thor’s shoulders. “I’ve pretended that you don’t make me desperate, even with both of us naked before each other. And I hope you have enjoyed that, dear brother; I hope it has made you desperate, too, though I doubt it has made you quite as desperate as me.” He pressed himself against Thor, the sudden heat making him inhale sharply. “Even after you gave me your mouth, Thor,” he said softly into his ear, “I want more. I want ever so much more. You know I’m far more wild than I work to appear, and to want you, to have you—I want to destroy your perfection, I want to devour it, I want to—”

With more wildness than he had planned, Loki bent his head down and bit the muscle where Thor’s neck joined his shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, he wasn’t that wound up, but much harder than something that could reasonably be called a love bite.

Thor moaned anyway, and Loki chuckled, now feeling just a little more in control of himself. “Oh. Yes. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, because you know me and you love me. Don’t you? You can speak again, answer me!”

“I know you and I love you,” Thor said in a low, hoarse voice.

Loki snaked his hands down from Thor’s shoulders and around his chest to hold his chest and lightly play with his nipples. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Thor said at once.

Loki gave him another mad little bite, and then a push towards the bed. “On your back,” he said, and laughed. “On your back, Thor! Are the oils safe for this or are we going to use them anyway or did you somehow manage to find something else to use without having to answer anyone’s questions?”

“The oils are safe,” Thor said. “I recognized the maker’s mark on the jars.” He grinned. “Maybe you would, too?”

“That would have required me to be concerned with discretion,” Loki said. “Spread your legs.”

“It’s been a few years,” Thor said, though he obligingly did as Loki asked.

“You don’t seem out of practice, though,” Loki said, following Thor onto the bed and settling between his knees. He rested a hand on Thor’s thigh. “Regardless, I will take care with you. I don’t know if it’s possible for you to enjoy this as much as I will, but I am definitely going to try and make it so.”

“I look forward to all of your efforts,” Thor said with a cheeky smile.

Loki laughed again; he couldn’t help it. “Maybe I should work on rendering you incoherent, instead.”

“Same thing,” Thor said.

“Oh, is it?” Loki asked, coating his fingers with the fragrant oil. “I supposed I shouldn’t be so surprised. You haven’t shown me much inclination to maintain any appearance of control in bed.”

“Well, there are other things I enjoy far more,” Thor said.

“Oh, yes. I have grasped  _that_  thoroughly,” Loki said, as he gave Thor’s cock a long, slow stroke and pressed one finger inside him. Thor’s chest heaved with a deep breath, and his eye widened gratifyingly. “You’re tight, Thor,” Loki remarked, and a familiar smirk alighted on his mouth. “I’ll probably have to work you for rather a long time before you’re ready for my cock.”

“Fuck,” Thor breathed, leaning his head back.

In truth, Loki could have spent more time opening Thor up than he actually did. But to see that beautiful, powerful body  _writhe_  with just the ministrations of his fingers; to watch that big, gorgeous cock bob and drip with precome thanks to some of his slightest movements; to hear Thor’s voice begging, absolutely  _begging_  for his cock—well, it was all far too much to resist.

“Very, very well, Thor,” he said, gripping one of his hips. “As—as you have asked, as you have offered—” He nudged Thor’s legs a little wider, licked his lips, and guided the tip of his cock carefully into Thor. Thor stilled, and Loki wondered if he’d moved too fast. But then Thor moaned softly and Loki grinned.

“Keep—keep going,” Thor said. “Unless you truly wish to drive me mad.”

Loki shook his head. “I—you feel wonderful, but you also feel like I ought to go slow.” Thor made a sound of protest and Loki allowed himself another stroke of Thor’s cock. “I promise you I’ll give you everything I’ve got, though.”

“Do it then,” Thor said. “Please. Do it.”

Ordinarily, Loki hated doing as he was told, but of course, this moment was far from ordinary. He took a swift, deep breath and started thrusting shallowly into Thor. He watched his face closely as he went a little deeper, and still a little deeper after that. At first he intended to watch for any signs of discomfort, but soon he felt halfway hypnotized by the ever-changing expressions of pleasure on Thor’s face. Thor clearly had no interest in being stoic or restrained, not now, not when he was with Loki like this, and Loki felt another wave of heat wash over him to think that every one of Thor’s open-mouthed gasps and moans, every time he bit his lip or closed his eye so tightly or opened it so wide was thanks to him.

It spurred him on, drawing him into Thor’s welcoming body. Soon, he was fully sheathed within Thor, surrounded by that intoxicating tight heat, and he let out his own deep groan. He bent down to bring his face close to Thor’s, two eyes meeting one. “Care to give me a brotherly kiss, Thor?” he asked. Some of his breath went into Thor’s lungs when he gasped as their mouths met. Loki chuckled when he finally pulled back, giving Thor an extra peck on his cheek. “Do you want it faster, Thor? Do you want it harder?”

“Yes,” Thor said hoarsely. “Yes, yes, yes—Loki!”

So, it seemed he’d found the angle he was looking for. “I’m making you mine, Thor,” he said, throwing himself into his heated, rhythmic work.

“Already—yours—”

Loki gripped his shoulders and grinned wildly at him. “How dare you!” he said, knowing it was nonsensical but not caring. “Thor—Thor—” It seemed to be the only word that could pass his lips, and that was doubtless for the best; there was much in Loki’s mind that he didn’t want to distract or discomfort Thor with while they fucked, no matter how the thoughts whipped through his brain and down his spine to add strength to the snap of his hips.

He, Loki, always just that much younger, just that much smaller; the weaker one, the sneakier one, the one who everyone knew had to rely on words, the strange and evil changeling—he was the one the perfect Thor loved, the one golden Thor had invited to his bed, the one whose cock noble Thor wanted to suck. Their effortlessly strong and princely Thor wanted to be on his back, legs spread for Loki. Not only did their paragon want to take cock, he wanted to take it from someone they assumed was only good for taking it.

Below such things, in a deeper and more permanent chamber of his soul, Loki knew that Thor loved him outside of all these considerations, and so too Loki loved him back. But that didn’t change the sick, sharp, irresistible sweetness that came with the thought of broken taboos, assumptions upended, of everything rent asunder by the idea of Loki fucking the idea of Thor.

Such thoughts spurred his pleasure ever onwards, made every meeting between his skin and Thor’s more thrilling. “Thor,” he said, again and again—it was all he wanted to say, all he wanted Thor to hear, no matter how silver-tongued the  _idea_  of Loki was. He bent down to bite at Thor’s neck, Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s chest, too hard? Just hard enough? He’d devour Thor if he could, wouldn’t he? And wouldn’t Thor let himself be devoured, his voice lifting with every bite, his legs curling around Loki?

“Touch me,” Thor panted, when Loki’s ear passed near his mouth. “Touch me, please, I’m so close, all for you, Loki, Loki—”

Loki met his gaze at once, with heavy-lidded eyes and a curled smile. “Thor,” he said, moving back and wrapping his hand around Thor’s cock, “let it never be said that I do not take care of my brother.”

Thor moaned, not an ounce of shame in him now, and Loki stroked him fast and firm, in time with his thrusts. It didn’t take long before Loki felt Thor’s cock throb and pulse in his hand, before he arched his back and spattered his chest and stomach with his own orgasm. Such a sight was irresistible, even if Loki hadn’t heard Thor call his name as his eye rolled back in his head. He gave a few more frantic thrusts, thoughtless of anything now except sensation, and at the very last moment, following some inarticulate impulse, he pulled out of Thor’s glorious tight heat only to come onto him, the white of his come mingling with Thor’s own on that golden skin.

He stared down at the sight, wanting to fix it in his mind, but also knowing he need expend no real effort to do so. A billion stars could grow cold before he forgot this. “Lovely,” he said, his voice slow and hazy, and then collapsed in a daze beside Thor. 

After—likely—a few minutes (Loki definitely wasn’t keeping track), Thor fumbled for his hand and took it.

It was…nice. And not a reaction he was used to. He huffed out a laugh.

“What?” Thor asked. It sounded like he was smiling.

“I deliberately came on you. And now you’re holding my hand.”

“Only logical,” Thor said. “Cuddling would lead to far too much clean-up, now.”

“Ah. And we would both be familiar with the process of pretending we didn’t just have a wild night with a male lover, wouldn’t we?”

“Maybe me even more than you,” Thor said. “After all, it seems like I was the one more concerned with discretion.”

“I did still have  _some_  interest in managing the rumors the palace staff spread about me,” Loki said. “And I certainly didn’t want to make enemies of the launderers.”

“I never thought of that,” Thor said. “Not…before, you know.”

“Well. You didn’t have to.”

They lay in silence for a few more moments.

“More to the point, though, that was incredible,” Thor said. “I’d told myself that I wasn’t envious of your past lovers, but now I think I am.”

Loki’s lips curled into a catlike smile and he stretched—still keeping hold of Thor’s hand, though. “You should see me with a cunt. Or maybe I just say that because I want to know how envious I should be of  _all_  your past lovers.”

Thor swallowed audibly. “That’s right,” he said, “your form isn’t fixed. You stay in this one so often, though, it’s easy to forget.”

“That’s the point,” Loki said, and sighed. “I’d change all the time if…well, it wasn’t a common talent on Asgard. And…”

“We don’t have to keep everything about Asgard,” Thor said.

“Yes, you understand a little, don’t you? You were lectured about not bottoming, even though you do it beautifully, and, if I may say so, it obviously brings you pleasure.”

“I know it’s not exactly the same,” Thor insisted, and Loki smiled. He sounded like a student trying to show that they’d finally understood finally understood some complicated topic. Loki wondered idly who his teacher had been and when the subject had come up.

“Yes,” Loki said. “But it’s not like one problem exists without the other. And, anyway, we’re going to Earth. I fully admit that when I was there recently, I didn’t have a lot of time to focus on the kind of details that would be relevant, but my impression was not that it would be better.”

“But it will be different, for us. Oh, I don’t know. But I think you should change as much as you want, on Earth. Who knows? That might even help with your image, there.”

“With all the clarity of hindsight, let me say: that would be fucked up,” Loki said. He laughed. “I hope it does happen that way.” He sat up. “Anyway. Let’s wash up. Have some more mead while we’re at it.” He moved to the edge of the bed, taking Thor’s hand with him. He expected him to follow, to move with him towards the bathroom, but he did not, stopping Loki short just as he stood.

However, he only tightened his grip on Loki’s hand. “Thor…” Loki said warningly.

“What?” Thor said. “You can’t expect me to just get up and walk after what you gave me.”

“Of course I can!” Loki tugged at his arm. “You’re fucking Thor!”

“No, that’s what you were doing,” Thor said, and Loki swore.

“I  _will_  drag you to the bathroom if I have to,” Loki said.

“Can you?” Thor asked, and grinned.

Loki swore again, but he also grinned back. “I can. And I will. And if you make me do so I will drink the rest of that bottle of mead myself, in one go, staring you in the face the entire time.” And even though he liked this threat, he didn’t give Thor a chance to appreciate all of it. Loki had set his feet during the start of the sentence and at the last few words gave a mighty heave that did, successfully, pull an unbraced Thor (and a blanket) off the bed and onto the floor with a thud.

“Ha!” Loki freed his hand from Thor’s and put his hands on his hips. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you weren’t ready for that, though.”

Thor only groaned in reply, and Loki sauntered over to where he’d set the bottle of mead. He’d just placed it to his lips when Thor interrupted him.

“You haven’t actually dragged me to the bathroom yet,” he said.

Loki met his gaze steadily. “I realized I needed a drink after all the work I just did,” he said. “A long drink.” He flashed a quicksilver grin at Thor, who made some exclamation of protest as the sweetness of the mead hit Loki’s tongue. He kept drinking as he saw Thor finally getting up, only pausing to, well, stick out his tongue at Thor as he slipped from the bedroom into the bathroom. It was very strong mead, after all.

Thor caught him with enough of a scuffle to make both of them messier, and celebrated this little victory with a swig from the bottle and a sloppy kiss Loki gladly returned. “It’s still not clear if you’re able to drag me anywhere,” Thor said with a grin.

“What are you talking about? I dragged you out of bed and I dragged you here, just…not physically. That counts, doesn’t it?” Loki hated the petulance that had crept into his voice in the last sentence, but wasn’t sure how to best distract from it.

But maybe he didn’t need that distraction. Thor looked at him too carefully out of a growing haze. “There’s no reason why it shouldn’t count,” he said, then took another quick drink. “You know, I don’t think this is meant to be drunk this way.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Loki said.

Thor smirked and handed the bottle back to him. “Not to assume too much, but I think I probably shouldn’t have any more. You have the rest of it while I wash up.”

It was a good offer, Loki thought, letting sweetness slowly trickle down his throat and transmute into warmth in his belly as he watched Thor clean himself of the evidence of their encounter with all the efficiency and economy of movement that Loki had previously seen only after sparring matches. It wasn’t just sweat and dust and the odd drop of blood that he was washing off now, though. No, indeed.

“Should I try to do this in a different way, or what?” Thor asked, noticing Loki’s stare.

“No,” Loki said. “It’s nostalgic. You wash off come like you washed off sweat from the sparring ring.”

“Well. I…wait, come to think of it, did you start begging off sparring with me because you were afraid of somebody noticing something off in the baths, afterwards?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Of course. I was trying to do everything I could to keep control when it came to you, and also trying to stop thinking about you in the first place. That young, even the strongest will was no guarantee of a lack of reaction.”

Thor smiled and looked at him thoughtfully, which was even more uncomfortable now that so much mead was flowing through his veins. He turned away and started wiping at himself with a warm washcloth.

“You know,” Thor said, “if you hadn’t done that, we probably would have ended up with fighting styles that were too similar to be as effective as ours ended up being.”

Loki let out a surprised laugh. “Well, if you say so, Thor. Let it be known that your brother’s unseemly desire for you led us to become a formidable team.”

“Not exactly a useful piece of information, I suppose,” Thor said. “Here, let me.” He took the washcloth from Loki. “All of this is my responsibility, anyway.”

Loki hummed and swallowed the last of the mead as Thor ministered to him. He hadn’t even bothered to fantasize about something like this, Thor serving him in this way, so it had to be real, no matter how dreamlike it felt, with Thor attending to him more thoroughly and slowly than he had to himself. “Do you mean to reawaken my desire?” he asked after a minute or two.

“Maybe. Yes.” Thor bent forward to press a quick kiss to Loki’s neck. “I’m thinking about the baths now, on Asgard. You weren’t the only one…what I mean to say is that, as a very young man—oh, hell, as a boy, really—it was through seeing the other young men, the other boys react to me that I first knew, really knew, that I was desirable.”

What an interesting thing to hear while Thor carefully washed his cock. “Tell me more,” he murmured. “Tell me more about how the prince of Asgard learned he was desirable.”

Thor chuckled a little and gave him a brief squeeze through the washcloth. “Such ancient history and yet…” He grew slightly more serious. “I’ve never told anyone. I’m happy to tell you.”

Loki smiled at this unlooked-for intimacy. He hoped Thor couldn’t interpret that smile, or at least wasn’t paying attention. It was all too soppy.

“Well,” Thor said, his movements becoming even more desultory, “it was a time when I only had experience of my own body, sexually. I knew how desire was marked in me, but no matter how much I hoped that certain others desired me, I was not yet bold enough to ask, or experienced enough to see any subtle sign that would encourage me.”

“Doesn’t that sound strange to you, now that you say it?” Loki asked. “You’d been hearing praise for being handsome and strong your whole life.”

“Yes,” Thor said, “so it wasn’t clear to me which such compliments might show a hint of the desperate heat I often felt, the urgent want that had me longing to retreat to my room to stroke myself to some temporary relief. And in the midst of this maze of desire, there were still lessons, and more princely duties every day, it seemed, and training, which at least was a refuge because it was something I was good at that wasn’t changing quickly. But around that time I was judged ready to move to more robust, more heavily used facilities, and, of course, their baths, full of young men who were strangers to me.

“My body reacted, of course it did—there was much fine flesh to be seen among young Asgardian warriors.”

“Surely none as fine as yours,” Loki murmured, and was rewarded with a short laugh and a kiss pressed to his throat.

“As to that,” Thor said, “I’d gotten the idea already that perhaps, as a prince, my cock was not supposed to stand so readily for other men. So even though I was sure most of the others there would say nothing of what they saw, I decided to do my best to be discreet, to act as though I was unaffected by all that taut muscle under every shade of skin.” He paused. “But even if you’d stopped training with me, you no doubt had some similar experiences.”

“Hm, but I’m listening to you talk, now. I’ll tell you later if you ask. Suffice to say that I was…less concerned with discretion. As well as downright intemperate when I stopped suppressing my woman’s form.”

“You went to the women’s baths?”

"I had a right to, whenever I was a woman," Loki said. "Like I said, you can ask me more questions later, and maybe I'll answer. But you're not done with your story yet. And that's what I wanted to hear. You were trying so very hard to be discreet..."

"Yes...all right. Well, as I tried to make sure that no one was paying too much close attention to me, I ended up noticing a great deal about the others in those baths. The ones who turned their bodies away from me and their eyes towards me. I knew that of course I wouldn't be the only man there who would look at others with desire, but I hadn't been thinking of what it would be like to know that I was watched. Was wanted.”

“Watched and wanted,” Loki repeated. The mead was making him drift, but it was good to drift here. Thor had finished cleaning him, and now they merely stood, skin to skin, with Loki leaning back against the edge of the sink.

“It felt better than I ever would have admitted, then,” Thor said, resting a hand on Loki’s chest. “I stopped practicing any sort of modesty with my own body. I spent as much time in the baths as I could manage without getting in trouble. And it was quite a bit, because I always made sure to have a hard training session beforehand, to make my presence there legitimate.”

A smile spread on Loki’s face. “So, the mighty Thor’s prowess in battle increased so quickly, then, because of his desire to look at and be looked at by other men.”

“I don’t think it’s that uncommon of a story,” Thor said. “Of the many unspoken things in Asgard…I think this was something very known about young warriors, especially. I think it might have been the reason any pairs of men were accepted as lovers.”

“Hm, ghastly,” Loki said. “Maybe true. But what I want to hear is how you acted, Thor. What did you do, your modesty gone?”

“Ah, well. I never covered myself at all after taking off my armor. And though I still wasn’t so bold to face everyone else in the waterfall room, I always spent enough time there to make sure I got very, very clean. Of course, washing so thoroughly, there were plenty of opportunities to glance around and see who was lingering—to see who might be drifting closer to me, or who might move suddenly to the cooler part of the waterfall’s arc. I could get very worked up on just a suspicion that someone was watching me. But even if I did have an erection, I didn’t try to will it away before leaving for other parts of the baths. If there was a problem—though there never was—I always figured that I could just say that I was hard for no reason. I was young enough for that to be easily believed. But, hard or soft, I never covered myself as I walked past the benches where the men combed and braided each other’s hair, past the tables where attendants would give massages, past the tables which were open to anyone—if there was a pair at any one of those, they  _would_ look at me, I could guarantee that—through the many small, hot soaking pools, and finally to my only plausible goal after that path, the large soaking pool.”

“Tell me how they looked at you, Thor.” Thor’s cock was pressed against Loki’s thigh, and Loki wanted to see if Thor could talk himself into a full erection. He was already on his way, certainly.

“They looked at me in ways that showed their own desperate desire, and I knew, because there it mirrored my own. Sometimes their gazes were shy, quick. Or sly, heavy-lidded—looks of experience in the world I was recklessly throwing myself into. Sometimes there was surprise on the faces of the young men hastily closing their robes or adjusting their towels, as if in seeing me they’d discovered something unlooked-for and wonderful. It was how I’d felt, first. But I looked for more and I found more. Eyes only briefly meeting mine before travelling slowly down my body, and me returning the same kind of gaze, feeling invited. Sometimes they were as bare as me, and when their cocks were hard I thrilled to think that I was at least part of the cause as they had been for me. Even when there was more discretion—a towel low around the hips, let’s say—sometimes it would be adjusted after they’d met my eyes, carefully revealing the hardness I’d caused.” He moved his hand to trace Loki’s collarbone. “After so much time away it almost seems absurd. So much sexual tension, and yet somehow it was mostly ignored by those who really were there just for the baths themselves.”

“Maybe absurd, maybe not,” Loki said, making his stance a little wider. “It’s a good thing I avoided those baths when you were there, though. You would have noticed something.”

“I probably would have assumed you were reacting to everyone but me,” Thor said. “Of course, then I might have wanted to talk about wanting men with you, and who knows how that would have gone.”

“We can play pretend about it later,” Loki said, and Thor made a soft sound of approval. Oh, Thor’s cock was definitely fuller now, bigger and hotter, but he could still be brought higher without Loki’s touch or words, yes. “After parading your glorious youth around, you say you went to the soaking pool. Was everything done, then? The baths mundane once more?”

“Oh, no, definitely not. From the pool I had an excellent view of much of the rest of the baths, and so most of the men there. I could look as much as I wanted, and at that age, of course, I wanted very much.”

“But weren’t you really just frustrating yourself?” Loki asked. “I went to different baths at different times, and all had attendants who carefully didn’t see many, many things, but were very, very strict about anyone seeking actual sexual release in public. If you often walked around with your cock hard, I imagine they watched carefully to make sure your hands remained above the water.”

“True,” Thor said with a wry smile. “And I would never have sullied the soaking pool, either. Yes, the pleasure of looking was joined with frustration. More than once I left the soaking pool in a great hurry, pausing only to throw on a robe as I rushed to the nearest private space I knew of, to give myself the few frantic strokes that were all I needed after a surfeit of gazing and being gazed at.”

“Poor prince, so potently desired and desiring, yet hiding away with his own hand,” Loki said, his voice soft and teasing. Thor was almost as ready as he wanted him to be, but there was one more push that Loki wanted to give, one more thing that he wanted Thor to call to mind and put into words. One more thing that he wanted to know, which seemed better asked here than in ordinary conversation. “But tell me, Thor, did it stay like that? Was there ever touch, among all that heat and water? Did you ever find satisfaction with any of those shining young warriors? Did you ever bring release to any of those men in the baths whose cocks stood for their prince? And don’t think I haven’t noticed that there’s one region of the baths you haven’t mentioned at all, yet.”

Thor’s breath deepened and quickened, and his hands flexed against Loki’s chest and waist, almost involuntarily.

“I—I was feeling particularly reckless, that day. Heated. Or maybe those aren’t the exact right words. Earth slang would be better, here.  _Horny_.”

Loki let out a short, surprised laugh. “You’re serious?  _Horny?_ ”

“Ask Bruce if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you, but I might ask anyway. It would be funny to watch his face as he tries to explain that word to someone who often wears a horned helmet and who he probably does not want to think about being, well, horny.” A mischievous smile spread across his face. “What an excellent piece of slang. What an awkward linguistic association to follow me if I’m wearing my helmet on Earth. I love it.”

“So, do you want to keep talking about the word you learned or did you want me to continue to answer your questions about…my experiences in the baths?”

Loki’s laugh was lower, now. “Oh, the latter, certainly. I think we can both tell that neither of us has lost interest in such subjects. So,” he said, moving his mouth closer to Thor’s ear and dropping his voice to a whisper, “tell me, Thor, about that day of touch, the one that started with the young prince feeling particularly…horny.” The casual, vulgar word was a good one for Thor, as he’d hoped.

“I—after barely a proper workout, I hastily headed to the baths. I understood that I couldn’t actually seek release there, but I wanted to see skin, and it was the skin of the men in the baths that I knew I could see. It was one of those days—everything seemed sensual, arousing. I could swear I wasn’t the only one feeling that, but maybe I was just looking more. It seemed like everywhere my eyes roamed were cocks thickened with arousal, hardened nipples, bright tongues darting out to lick delicious lips, tented towels and robes—I recall clearly, as I passed the benches for braiding and combing, seeing one man in a robe, sitting with his legs spread to either side of the bench, carefully weaving the long black hair of his naked companion into an intricate set of braids. The robes of that bath were cut generously enough so as not to hinder the movements of those who would conceal themselves, and his did almost conceal him—save for the last couple inches of a very large, very hard cock jutting up from the split in the fabric.

“I nearly felt drunk with desire, and without thinking if I was going to make a fool of myself or not, I climbed up onto one of the massage tables that weren’t attended. Facing down, then, looking at the floor instead of flesh, I realized that I probably  _was_  going to be made a fool, and deserved it. I hadn’t asked anyone to be my partner, to touch me. I had just laid down and assumed someone would volunteer. And yet, before I had time to even begin to feel any humiliation—or much, anyway—I felt a warm hand placed flat on my shoulder. It wasn’t quite like getting struck by lightning, but, oh. It was close. He told me his name, and even now, after so long, I feel I should keep it to myself. What happened in the baths was meant to stay there. But outside of the baths he was only an acquaintance, someone from a different training group a year or two ahead of mine.

“He knew who I was, naturally. But it didn’t seem to matter, at least not from what I remember. He told me he was glad I’d finally decided to do this…because it seemed like I needed it. And he was far from the only man who’d been waiting for me.

“He poured skin-warm oil on my back and his hands slid over me, caressing. There was no pretense of it actually being a massage. He was just freely touching because he wanted to. And by touching my back—well, it drives home that there’s really someone else there doing the touching. I know I shivered as he did this. Trembled, if you want.”

“Oh, I do,” said Loki.

“I—when he did add some force to his touches, rolling and pressing his hands against my lower back, I had to stifle a moan. I doubt I was fully successful, but no attendant told us to leave. Instead—and now I know this will sound like a fantasy—he quietly called the name of another, and moments later I felt a new hand resting on my calf. This second man, he devoted his attentions to my feet, my calves, my thighs. He spent rather a lot of time at my feet, actually, but all I can say is that I hope he enjoyed doing so, because absolutely every touch from both of them, showing how much I was desired, set me practically aflame.” Thor cleared his throat. “But to be less poetic—I’d already been mostly hard when I lay down. After a few minutes of touching, I was harder than I’d ever been in my life, harder than I’d ever been in the baths before. But despite my discomfort, I felt totally unable to get up. I didn’t want to make a shameful mess in the baths, but any change in position, any friction at all on my cock seemed to promise that would happen.

“Thankfully the first man had some more experience than I did. He bent down to whisper to me. ‘You’re desperate, aren’t you?’ he said. ‘Hard enough to leak. Hard enough to worry about what a breeze might make you do. You  _need_  release. And…you  _can_  get it here. One of the sauna rooms.’ 

He told me they were going to leave me alone for a minute or two so I could calm myself a little, and then he’d come back with a towel. Better to have one than not, when I finally got up. As you might imagine, the prospect of what awaited me in one of the saunas didn’t allow me to cool myself overmuch, but without direct touch I did manage to get up and gingerly wrap the towel around my hips. ‘If the sauna closest to the soaking pool is one,’ the first man said, ‘go to four. Don’t rush.’ I’d thought he would have been coming with me, but no. It would be too obvious. He told me I might see him there sometime, though.

“I suppose I must have managed not to rush and to not totally betray my purpose, because no attendants stopped me. If they glanced my way, I don’t know. I was hardly thinking clearly.

“Like the other saunas in those baths, it was softly lit, and the steam inside this room was heavier than in others, obscuring the far benches. So before I saw, I heard. Soft, slick, rhythmic sounds. Heavy breathing. In a daze, I removed my towel, and then paused. I had no idea what to do next. Was I to go to the back of the room? I wanted to see, but what was the custom, here? I had a feeling that here, any authority I had as a prince would not help me get what I was so desperate for.

“I don’t know how long I would have stood there, but then I heard a muffled cry through the steam, and not long after, a man walked out of the mist. He didn’t look at me, but I looked at him, noticing his calm face, his softening cock. He took a new towel and left, the slightly cooler air of the main baths causing the mists to swirl. And out of those mists walked another man, absentmindedly wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers, licking them. I watched in silence as he took a long drink from the cold tap near the door, then finally turned to me. I didn’t know his name, then—though I did later—but he recognized me. ‘Prince Thor,’ he said. The title was almost ironic in his mouth, but I didn’t care. ‘I haven’t seen you here before.’ I told him I hadn’t been there before, and he gave me a long look up and down, and then—then he asked if I’d ever had my cock sucked before. I shook my head, and he smiled and asked me if that was why I was here. I told him what the others had told me and he nodded. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I was going to leave, but to be the prince’s first, that’s something not to be missed.’ He stepped a little closer—he’d been talking quietly so far, and his voice went even quieter then. ‘This is how it works,’ he said, ‘you come in here, and up front it’s like any other sauna. But you go to the right if you want to receive. The left if you want to give—if you want to suck. You wait for a partner on the other side. The giver gets the most say in partners, not that you’d have to worry about not being chosen, royal from head to toe as you are. The choice of side is always yours, but it is noticed when a man only ever goes right. Then again, don’t go left unless you know you can swallow. We have to leave as little evidence as possible for the attendants to keep turning a blind eye. And if you can comprehend all that with, as it seems, so little blood left for your brain, then you can follow me to the back.’”

“Tell me what he looked like,” Loki said. He was ready to go to his knees, Thor was ready for him to go to his knees, but he wanted to hear the rest of this. “What did he look like, the man who first sucked your cock?”

A little shiver rushed through Thor where Loki held him. “He was only a little shorter than me. Lanky. Lithe. Pale as milk, but with thousands of freckles. He had eyes that were gray-green in the sauna, but they changed when I saw them under other lights. Fine copper-red hair, that fell below his shoulder blades. The lines of his face were narrow, sharp. His mouth, though, was wide, expressive. And, ah, of course I would find his mouth memorable, but—he also had some unusual scarring around his lips, which he never volunteered any explanation for.”

“Wait,” Loki said. “I knew him. We spent a lot of time in taverns getting people to make bad bets. He taught me how to fool people with even a really terrible disguise, if you needed to.” Loki gave a short laugh. “He never said anything about you, though.”

“What happened in the baths always stayed,” Thor said. “At least so far as I can remember. Strange world, though, that you should know him.”

“Asgard was never of a size to seriously foster anonymity,” Loki said. “Perhaps that was why the taboo of speaking about what went on in the baths held so much more strongly than the ideas of what a prince’s sexual proclivities should be. Of course, you’re telling, now.”

“You may have noticed that this isn’t the only taboo I’ve broken today,” Thor said, and Loki kissed the corner of his jaw.

“Tell me the rest,” Loki said. “Tell me the rest of your encounter with this red-haired stranger.”

“He led me through the steam to the bench at the back of the room. There was still one other pair there, but neither of them paid any attention to us. I’d never seen such acts in person, and I’m afraid I stared, until my partner reached out and turned my face back to his. It was rare, you know, for me to be touched unexpectedly, outside of sparring. That this man would do so—it stirred something in me above my physical desire. I wonder if the man sensed that, for he smiled at me and told me not to concern myself with them, and to sit down, with no deference at all. I did, and he knelt, pushing my knees apart and settling between them, easy, casual. He placed his hands on my thighs and used his thumbs to just lightly stroke the insides. I remember my heart pounding; I remember him smiling and licking his lips. He told me to relax—that he wasn’t going to tease me because I already seemed in danger of making such a mess. And then, right after that, he—”

“Tell me, Thor,” Loki said, his hands wandering lazily over Thor’s back. Let them be full of flesh while his ears were full of Thor’s voice telling him such things.

“He bent forward and took my cock in his mouth. The heat, the wetness, the movement of his tongue—they were astounding revelations to me. I was stunned by how good it felt. And he—he truly didn’t mean to tease. He took more of me in with every bob of his head, ever licking, ever sucking. It wasn’t long before he’d managed to take all of me in, and a good thing, too, because if that was his goal, well—as soon as he did it, as soon as I felt him swallowing around me—I came.”

“You came right down his throat,” Loki murmured, and was rewarded with a shiver. “Harder than just with your hand, I suspect?”

“Oh yes,” Thor breathed. “It seemed to go on forever, too. But he just held my hips, seeking every last drop. When he finally pulled away, I was completely without thought. So I—well, somehow some of my protocol training kicked in, and I thanked him, but in the way you’d formally thank, like, a foreign diplomat for the gift they’d brought.”

Loki snickered.

“Yes, and he laughed too,” Thor said. “He told me being so polite would serve me well whenever I sat on the right, and, well, that was all. He told me to wait a few minutes before leaving, and wear a towel when I did to hide my change in condition.”

 “How soon did you return?” Loki asked.

“The next day,” Thor admitted. “But I was far from the only one who enjoyed ending a training session that way.”

Loki smirked, and dropped his hand to finally give a slow stroke to Thor’s cock. “Many happy memories, it seems, but I won’t ask you to recount any more of them, now.”

“Of course,” Thor said, giving Loki his own hand. “But I’m glad to see that you enjoyed the telling.” He kissed Loki softly on the mouth, the movements of his hand still short and light. “How do you want me, now?”

It had to be dangerous, didn’t it, for Loki to realize that he could probably, with very little effort, convince Thor to spend the whole day pleasuring him? Well, that was something to think about later. Right now he had other plans. He gently took Thor’s hand away from his cock, brought it to his mouth and kissed the palm. “I’m going to suck your cock now, Thor. I’m going to kneel before you and serve you and—” He slipped away from Thor’s embrace, moving with half-dancing steps towards the door. “And then the universe will be a little more in balance, won’t it? For you I was always supposed to bow, always supposed to submit—”

“Loki,” Thor said, following him into the bedroom.

“But this was the only way I ever wanted to be on my knees for you, and there are some significant problems with that, as surely we can admit, even now.” Loki nudged the pillow beside the bed back into place. He grinned over at Thor, but Thor only gave him a concerned look in return. “What?”

“I don’t want this to be about power,” Thor said.

Loki stared at him, then scoffed. “Well, too bad! You’re a king now and you were a prince and some places worship you as a god!”

“But not you! Loki—” Thor paused, frowned, and folded his arms. “You’ve just retreated back into a role that you tried to hide in earlier. And it’s not you, and it’s not what I want, because what I want, and—and who I love—is you.”

Loki’s grin fell from his face. Dozens of responses shot through his thoughts, but all of them seemed only good for pushing Thor away. And were any of them an honest reply, anyway?  _Could_  he give an honest reply? If he’d kept his mouth shut for just a few seconds he’d probably be sucking cock right now, which was far more straightforward. “Be patient,” he told Thor. “I’m trying to figure out the truth.”

Thor relaxed. “All right, well, I will sit down while waiting for that.”

“Fuck you,” Loki said with a laugh, and now Thor even smiled at him. “You’re dreadful.” He started to pace back and forth a few steps in front of where Thor sat on the bed. “Here’s a part: without that power game, how different am I from everyone else who wanted to bring you pleasure in your life?”

“Luckily for everyone, you are unique, Loki. You don’t seem concerned that I’m the same as any of your other partners.”

“What we did is not what I usually did with my other partners.” Loki shook his head and stopped pacing. “Asgard fucked me up more than you, Thor. Without some power game, without some cosmic background, without—without force, without humiliation…all that’s left is that I want to kneel before you, for pleasure. I want to take you inside me, for pleasure. And that’s true, but oh, isn’t that so typical of Loki, of course he’s the one who’d bend over, you know I’ve heard—”

“Loki. You don’t need to say the things that others said about you. You don’t have to worry that I don’t understand the pleasure in sucking a cock or taking one. I mean…” Thor smirked. “You know I do both.”

Loki looked at Thor with an answering smirk. “I’m getting in my own way, it seems.

“It wouldn’t be the most shocking thing,” Thor said.

“Keep that kind of noise to yourself,” Loki said. He stepped up between Thor’s knees. “All right. I don’t really want to submit to you, and I don’t want to kneel before you for reasons other than pleasure.” No need to mention how the dynamic in the other direction had inflamed his desire before. That was something just for him to enjoy—just a different sort of enjoyment from what he was looking forward to now. “But there are a few particular things I  _do_  want,” he said, leaning forward and placing his hands on Thor’s knees. “Even without any sort of power play, I want you to use those maddeningly strong hands to pull my hair. I want you to feel free to pull me towards you. I want to feel how much you want me.”

“That,” Thor said hoarsely, “that I will do gladly.”

“It’s awful how desirable you are,” Loki said, a touch of real anger roughening the words. If Thor really wanted him for himself, he would get no sentiments polished into markers for a game of courtship.

“Then what must you be?” Thor asked, looking up at Loki with a soft smile on his lips, as if whatever Loki saw as desirable in Thor, Thor saw it ten times over in Loki.

There were things Loki could have said in reply. Arguments he could have made. He could have demanded an explanation of that look; he could have let himself be frozen by it. Instead he jerked forward and kissed Thor fiercely, wanting to feel him, wanting to taste him, wanting to bite and consume him.

Thor knew he was wild. He didn’t pull away.

When Loki broke the kiss, he laughed. He trailed jittery hands down the beautiful architecture of Thor’s body, going to his knees with ease and strength but no conscious grace.

Why was he acting like this? He’d  _fucked_  Thor; this should be less—he should be less—oh, hell, they were far, far beyond the shores of  _should_. No one else would ever know. And what he knew was that he’d wanted to do this with Thor, he’d never done this with Thor, but now—now he was.

Besides—it wasn’t like Thor was any more composed. “Loki,” he said, his voice low. He swallowed hard after this one word, and Loki watched his throat work with fascination. He then lifted his gaze to Thor’s, holding it for a long moment. “Do what you want,” Thor said.

Loki leaned his head on Thor’s thigh and smiled. “I promise you I will,” he said.

He had no plans to make this quick, like his old friend in the baths. He took his time pushing Thor’s legs ever wider, massaging his inner thighs as he did. Thor’s cock was straining by the time his hands reached it, but all he did at first was lightly run his fingertips up the thick, hot length. It twitched under his hands, and a drop of precome beaded at the slit. Thor’s body was so  _ready_. He absolutely deserved to be toyed with. Loki pressed a simple kiss, nothing but soft lips, to the head, and was rewarded with the sight of Thor’s leg muscles quivering involuntarily. “Not nearly enough, is it?” he said softly. He didn’t require an answer from Thor, and he didn’t wait for one. Instead, he bent his head further and finally employed his tongue, lazily licking a long stripe from the base of Thor’s cock back up to the head. Just washed, the taste was nothing but Thor himself, and Loki intended to savor it. He repeated what he’d just done, but in a slightly different spot—it would be better if Thor’s cock were slick all the way around, yes, of course. At the end of each stripe he licked, he took the head into his mouth, giving it a quick suck, gently licking away any precome at the tip. Thor’s breath grew ragged at these ministrations, and Loki at once decided that he wasn’t going to do more until Thor asked.

He didn’t have to wait long—Thor wasn’t going to know how long Loki had been prepared to tease him this time. He was back with his lips wrapped around the tip of Thor’s cock, when Thor worked his hand into Loki’s hair, cradling the curve of his skull. “Loki, please,” he said. “I need more. I want you to take me in, I—I love your silver tongue but I want your mouth, too, your—your throat.”

His fingers tightened slightly as he said the last, startling a moan out of Loki. One of his hands dropped mindlessly to his own cock, but he gave it no more than a hasty, reflexive stroke. Thor was more desperate now. Thor had asked. And Loki was eager to give. He took a slow breath in through his nose, calling to mind a few tricks he’d perfected over the years. He gripped Thor’s thighs, closed his eyes, and in one smooth, measured motion, swallowed Thor completely to the root.

Thor gasped and swore gratifyingly, babbling a few more half-formed phrases as Loki carefully swallowed around him. What exactly Thor said didn’t matter to Loki—all that did was that his name had been in every exclamation. He pulled back just as smoothly, working his tongue against the underside of Thor’s length to see what reactions he might get from where, but also, well, just to enjoy the feeling of Thor’s hot, smooth skin in his mouth.

He’d had the idea that he was going to release Thor just for a moment, to compliment him or tease him or both—it was a real disadvantage of cocksucking, that one couldn’t talk while doing it—but while the head of Thor’s cock was still in his mouth, he felt the pressure of Thor’s hand on the back of his head. That resistance, that small use of Thor’s strength, sent a thrilling rush of heat all through him. He’d said he’d wanted it, yes, but until actually experiencing it, he’d had no idea just  _how much_ he’d wanted this from Thor.

“I don’t want you to stop, Loki,” Thor said in a low voice. “I need you.” His fingers tightened once again in Loki’s hair, and Loki let go of any thoughts of saying anything for a while. He lapped at the precome dripping from Thor’s slit, met Thor’s wild-eyed gaze with his own, and let Thor’s hand on the back of his head guide him back down. He set a pace that was just slow enough to be maddening, calling for the push and pull of Thor’s hands on him. Those hands spoke so clearly of desperate desire, as did the litany of his name that Thor had been reduced to.

Wanted, wanted, wanted. How long could he keep Thor like this, hot and hard and free to spill only his name? Long enough to hurt? Or would Thor be overwhelmed by even a slow mouth and a languorous tongue? Maybe, oh maybe if it was Loki’s mouth and tongue.

But that wasn’t what he wanted to give Thor this time. He lifted his hands to Thor’s thighs and gave them a squeeze. What that might communicate wasn’t unambiguous, Loki knew, but at least it would signal a change. When his hands left Thor’s thighs, he brought them to where he felt confident they would be wanted, fondling Thor’s balls and playing along his cock whenever his mouth wasn’t warming it. Thor gave a deep groan, absolutely delightful to hear, and Loki felt the throb of his flesh on his tongue.

“I’m—I’m close Loki, very close,” Thor stammered. “If you care to let me come—”

But of course Thor had recognized how vulnerable he’d made himself to Loki in this, even more vulnerable than he’d been while Loki was fucking him. And while that was an intoxicating thought, it wasn’t one that Loki had any intention of doing harm with. It was so much more enjoyable to pleasure Thor than to hurt him, now that he had the chance to do so. He raised his eyes to Thor’s, quirking his eyebrows in a question. What exactly would Thor like him to do? He wanted him to hear him say it, whatever it was.

“Please—faster,” Thor said.

A simple request, but certainly not one to be scorned; simple requests were so readily fulfilled. Loki obliged, and Thor made a soft, broken sound of relief. Loki hummed his approval and then set about his task ever more diligently, till all his focus was brought to bear on the thick, straining length of Thor’s cock and all the ways his lips and mouth and tongue and throat could touch it and take it.

So total was his focus that he thought he might have noticed the signs of Thor’s orgasm even before his gasped warning, but it made no difference to his actions. He sucked hard as Thor came, drinking him down, milking him for every last drop, stopping only when Thor placed a heavy hand on the top of his head and gently moved him away. The soft, slick pop of Thor’s cock leaving Loki’s mouth suddenly reawakened his awareness of his own arousal, and the flushed, dazed look on Thor’s face only kindled him further.  _He_  had done that.  _He_  had caused that expression. Thor had come down  _his_  throat, and it was really Thor, finally, finally. Thor wanted him; Thor trusted him—

“Rise, Loki,” Thor said.

“So, you accept my tribute?”

“None of that,” Thor said with a chuckle. He placed his hands on Loki’s forearms and drew him down into a kiss.

Loki told himself he should stop being surprised by such actions; that Thor had, in this consummation, in this reality, given no signs that he would fuss over a taste of himself in his lover’s mouth, but old habits of thought weren’t so easily discarded. “I don’t think I ever fantasized about you being such a good lover to me,” Loki said upon the breaking of their kiss. 

“I’m always glad to exceed expectations,” Thor said, resting his hands on Loki’s hips. “Of course, you were the one doing all the work just now. I didn’t do much of anything. But, I  _can_ —”

“You did what I asked you to,” Loki said, interrupting him. “You said my name. There was no pretending that I was anyone else—someone more suitable. You didn’t force yourself to stay quiet, you didn’t act like you didn’t want me…” He trailed off. He wasn’t going to tell Thor how so many of his fantasies, the ones he’d considered more realistic, anyway, had relied on force or shame on one or both of their parts. It would hurt Thor, to be reminded that he could so easily be imagined as such. Even if the reasons Loki had developed those kinds of fantasies had little to do with what Thor was really like and much more to do with what Asgard was like, the obvious and insurmountable taboo between them, and Loki’s own…wariness of being loved by those he loved.

But now Thor was giving him a look that told Loki he might not know everything in Loki’s mind, he could guess enough. And why not? The personas he’d kept trying to slip into, what he’d said now—it didn’t add up to everything, but it added up to something.

“So it’s not so much that I’m particularly good, it’s more that I was a particularly poor lover in your fantasies.” Thor frowned, even as he rubbed circles on Loki’s hipbones. “Where was your pleasure in that?”

“You. You being with me at all. I mean…you’re  _Thor_. I could find pleasure in your touch, no matter what it was.”

Thor raised an eyebrow and Loki grimaced. “Yes, and I  _did,_ all right, and that does give an awful alteration to many memories we share, but you can’t expect any better from me, and—”

“Loki. Loki. You aren’t the only person who’s ever fought me to try and touch me. And haven’t these past few hours been enough to convince you that I’m pleased to have you want me now?”

“Hours against years, Thor. But I do admit…every moment your skin touches mine helps.” He sighed and rested his hands on Thor’s shoulders. “It felt safer to imagine you as something that was the prince of Asgard rather than the Thor I knew so well and loved so fiercely as a brother, and who I’d madly fallen in love with and wanted as a lover. I wouldn’t have loved you if you were just a prince-thing, but…”

“I lied to myself, too,” Thor said. “I’ve been confused often enough in my life to tell myself I was simply confused again. That of course anyone might desire your form. But I didn’t want anyone who looked like you, I wanted you. I loved you in a way I had not thought on before.”

The muscles in Loki’s legs tensed as if he planned to move away from Thor, but, no, he wouldn’t leave Thor’s hands. Not tonight. But to just accept Thor’s love—“What do you mean, of course anyone might desire my form?”

Thor looked him slowly up and down. “Isn’t it true?” He leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to Loki’s stomach. “Turn around,” he said.

Still trying to think of a response that would make Thor give him an actual answer, Loki did, allowing Thor to pull him onto his lap as well. His knees rested to the outside of Thor’s, his back pressed flush against Thor’s chest, his neck easily under Thor’s lips. “Explain yourself,” he said.

“I wanted to show my appreciation for your mouth,” Thor said, his breath warm against Loki’s neck. He wrapped one of his arms under Loki’s and around his chest until his hand rested lightly across Loki’s throat, a simple action which nevertheless swiftly returned Loki’s cock to full and almost painful hardness.

“I know you took your chance to sit on the throne of Asgard when you could,” Thor said.

“To say the least,” Loki said wryly.

Thor lightly nipped at his neck, making Loki’s breath stutter. “Quiet, I’m trying to be sexy and I haven’t worked out the phrasing.”

Thor’s other hand on Loki’s hip seemed as hot as a brand. “Can you just sum up how my treason was sexy and get on with whatever you were planning to do? I—I’m ready for it.”

“Finally, a genuine ‘whatever you want, Thor.’” The grin in his voice was obvious. “It was much better than the others.”

“Yes, yes, I see the difference. What—”

“I’m offering you my body as a throne, that’s what I’m getting at,” Thor said.

“Oh,” Loki breathed. “Oh. I—yes—that’s good. I—” Whatever he had planned to say, it was lost in a moan as Thor’s hand wrapped around his cock and gave him a firm stroke. The heat from his hand felt astounding, incredible; the smooth confidence of Thor’s movements was irresistible, compelling Loki to relax completely against this ardent, princely throne. The thin coating of oil on Thor’s palm was enough to turn any long-present calluses into added delights of texture, even as he quickened his pace.

“Is it all right if I make this quick?” Thor asked, punctuating his question with a kiss to Loki’s neck.

“It’s going to be quick whether you intend it or no,” Loki said. “I—if you—both your hands—your mouth—”

“Well, let’s see if I’ve understood you.” Thor’s hand moved quickly, the pressure tight and perfect, while the other tightened just slightly against his throat. The threat there only potential, and ever to remain so, yet it lit up every nerve, as if his throat had become as sensitive as his cock. Such dreadful vulnerability, yet Thor wanted Loki to think of his body as a place of power  _for_  Loki. Did Thor understand everything he was really doing to Loki, now? Was it better if he did or if he did not? Loki was already so bare before Thor—oh, but now he absolutely did not care. The promise of his approaching orgasm overwhelmed any introspection like a supernova outshining the stars around it. Thor stopped kissing his neck, and Loki would have protested the loss, save that Thor replaced lips with teeth, tenderly biting Loki where his neck joined his shoulder. He came immediately, arching against Thor like a bow, panting and keening Thor’s name as Thor wrung his pleasure from him.

Once Loki was completely spent, Thor gave him a cheeky kiss just behind his ear and gently moved Loki so he could sit, or, as was actually what happened, flop back on the bed. Thor exited the bedroom—Loki guessed he was going to wash his hands—leaving Loki to stare at the ceiling, his mind drifting through both satisfaction and embarrassment that he’d been so undone by a quick handjob, and that half the reason he’d been so easily undone was because he’d been so aroused by kneeling before Thor and sucking his cock to begin with. He threw his arm over his eyes. Did his love really make it so easy to please him?

Well. Probably.

Certainly, in truth.

His obsession with Thor and use of sex as a tool in games of interpersonal power would have obscured that, but whenever there had been  _any_  amount of mutual affection, well. It hadn’t been easy teaching himself to make his lovers work for his responses, had it?

Thor interrupted wherever these thoughts would have gone by nudging a cup of water into his hands, which he turned on his side to drink.

“I hope you won’t take it amiss if I say I only want to doze for a bit, now,” Thor said, draining his own water and settling next to Loki on the bed.

Loki scoffed. “Yes, I accept that even Thor has some limits. You’re not telling me to get dressed and go, are you? If you were, you’d just say so, I think.”

“Of course I’m not telling you to get dressed and go.” Thor lay down so that his face was nearer Loki’s. “But it’s not ‘of course, is it?”

Loki waved a hand dismissively. “Of all the things to show any concern about, that’s one of the least important. You are aware, though, that the more time I spend here, the greater the risk for you?”

“Why do you say that?” Thor asked. “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to spend time together. I mean, we were allies far longer than we were enemies. You proved yourself to most recently be an ally. So if someone saw you coming to my quarters with that bottle of mead there’s no reason for them to think anything was going on other than us getting drunk and reminiscing. All night, even. Maybe the only odd thing would be that you didn’t bring more than one bottle.”

“Yes,” Loki said slowly. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Because, of course, for us to love each other in this way is unthinkable. It would be a treasonous slander save for the fact that it’s true.”

“If…if you don’t think we should have more than this one night,” Thor began, but Loki put his hand over his mouth before he could say more.

“I want you for as long as you’ll have me and, knowing myself, even after that. I don’t regret the way I love you. I’m not…right enough for that. I especially don’t regret it now that I know the way you feel in my hands. The way your hands feel on me. I’ll say it: I don’t want any lover other than my brother.” 

“That’s something I can say, too,” Thor said. “I don’t know how it will be, with the remnant of Asgard on Earth,” he went on. “And not just between us. I don’t want to be a king like Odin, especially after the return of Hela. I have not the subtlety to be the kind of king who rewrites the past, and frankly, that kind of thing hasn’t been a good idea at all.” He frowned. “I think of Mjolnir, and of proving myself worthy. How did it decide? It was an Asgardian weapon. I heard a saying on Earth—if all you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail.”

“I wish I’d known that phrase when you still had it,” Loki said, his lips tilted in a small smile.

Thor shook his head. “Of course. Well. I don’t think there will be any kind of nails involved in settling Asgardians on Earth. I don’t think being a king in the years to come will be anything like what being a king on Asgard was.” Thor gave a quiet laugh. “But if I do manage to help everyone land on their feet, I think I’ll probably stick with commissioning plays and drinking wine, afterwards.”

“Don’t be an ass. It’s not as if that’s what being king is really about, either.”

“But it leaves Asgard with fewer enemies.” Thor’s expression grew troubled again. “I’ve ever been loyal to Asgard. Now that Asgard the place is gone, now that I’m the king, I bear responsibility for both my past and Asgard’s. There are many out in the galaxy who have legitimate grievances against me and Asgard. I refuse to increase that number and further endanger our people.”

“You’ll remain part of the Avengers, then,” Loki said. “Defending Earth…”

“Yes. I would be a fool to not build those alliances. And, I hope, friendships, regardless of what has transpired between the warriors I knew. But perhaps that is too fond a hope. After all, some threats to Earth may arise because of my presence there. But I will never deny the connection, and I will defend the Earth as well as I am able, and I have to hope that makes me worthy without Mjolnir to reassure me.”

“Once,” Loki said, “I mocked Black Widow for the idea that she could balance, as she put it, the red in her ledger, by heroic actions. Such as stopping me—well, you know. But now I understand the idea more clearly. I still don’t think that future actions can pay for past ones, but it’s probably better that some think that.”

“But, Loki, for you, isn’t that bleak?”

“Don’t think about it,” Loki said, more sharply than he’d intended. “Whether it’s bleak or not, it’s not as though that outlook has ever stopped me from doing anything. And it seems like what you’re going to do with it is do good for the Asgardians, so whether there’s balance or not, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Thor rubbed a hand along Loki’s arm. “I’m sorry for bringing this up,” he said. “Especially after I said I wanted to rest. I at least should have let you rest, even if I would have found my thoughts running towards the future and leaving me unable to sleep, anyway.”

“But you wanted to talk to me of the thoughts that kept you awake,” Loki said. He didn’t want to say anything more out loud, but as he saw it, this was another declaration of the kind of love that he’d hardly dared to imagine with anyone, much less Thor.

It was intimacy and trust he didn’t deserve, though of course he would take it. Even if he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do with it now that he had it—aside from suppress his habitual urge to sabotage it or throw it away. Thor loved him back with all the same wrongness that Loki loved him. It wasn’t dangerous to be close anymore. At least, not in the way it had been for Loki. Even if nothing could erase the past, maybe, with enough time, it could be overwhelmed, instead.

Could he love Thor long enough to dilute the poison of his past until it became harmless? He truly, honestly didn’t know—he was a wild creature, and after being as he was for so long, he would resent any sense that he was being tamed even by the most loving hand. But he wanted what was now new between them to become old, and with that want he thought there was a chance that it could.

“I’ve often wanted to talk to you of the things that kept me awake at night,” Thor said, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Even though, sometimes, the topic was you—and not in a sexy way.”

Loki breathed a laugh. “Do you know why you didn’t?”

“I think it was because at some point it became so that if I did confide in you it seemed all too likely that you would give me deliberately bad advice—or that you would use what I told you to humiliate or cause some other sort of trouble for me.”

“Hm. Well, not unfounded wariness, I suppose. And you had others to confide in, as well.”

Thor closed his eye. “All who are now gone.”

“I won’t talk about them if it pains you,” Loki said. “In fact, I’ll give you a distracting conundrum: Why confide in me now? Why trust me now?”

“Because I love you and I always take any chance I can to trust you,” Thor said, starting to smile again. “Which may have contributed to my reputation of being far more brawn than brain.”

“You’ll always have more muscle than sense,” Loki said. “But that’s actually more about how much muscle you have rather than how much sense you have.” Thor laughed, and Loki reached over to cup the back of Thor’s head with his hand, moving his fingers softly through his short hair.

Thor gave a slow sigh and glanced away from Loki, not fully managing to hide his troubled expression.

“Oh, Thor,” Loki said. “It’ll grow back.”

“Yes—and I know it’s astoundingly foolish of me to feel anything about my hair after losing so much else. I know. I know.”

“I certainly don’t expect you to be wise all the time,” Loki said. “And now would be the time to feel something, wouldn’t it? The epics with their pairs of warrior lovers—well, it wasn’t proper to sing of anything too explicit, but they could always braid each other’s hair as often as the tale could stand. ‘Silken strands of the throne of thought,’ and all that.”

“‘Fingers that made foes shudder and shriek now shuttles wandering wondering in the warm warp and weft’—there was so much of it.”

Loki raked his nails lightly against Thor’s scalp. “After a harrowing harvest I found my homeland; beautiful even without bounty, so long was I lost in lightless labyrinths; No longer will I go from where the gold is gone, from where the gold will grow.” Loki made a face at himself. “Well, that was obviously done on short notice.”

Thor only quirked his brows at him before leaning forward to give Loki a long, deep kiss. “Loki,” he said, “will you turn around so I can braid your hair?”

“Absolutely,” Loki said at once. He intended to say nothing more, only to let himself feel Thor’s hands in his hair, but as soon as he wasn’t looking at Thor, he couldn’t stop more words from flowing. “How can you just offer something like this to me?”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “I would have thought that you considered this your due.”

Loki clenched his teeth together, even though Thor was careful as he combed his fingers through Loki’s hair. “Don’t make me think you thoughtless, again. Don’t make me think of you never noticing me. Even with how little discretion I ever practiced, did you ever see me with lover’s braids at any breakfast? Even when we had our own dining room and didn’t need to face our parents at the start of the day?”

“I…don’t remember,” Thor admitted. “No, I never remember any lover’s braids. But I do remember that even after nights of heaviest carousing, whenever I or my friends would manage to stagger to the table or, honestly, to crawl out from under it, you would already be there, neat and bright as if you’d done nothing the night before but read in your room and retire early. Which was  _never_  the truth. Lover’s braids wouldn’t have fit that infuriating image.”

Loki relaxed enough to smile. “Ah, but I was so calm, and controlled, and studious, a weakling fit for magic rather than arms—”

“If I hadn’t been there as a contrast to you, no one would have ever believed that for even one second,” Thor said.

“But you were there,” Loki said. “And there was…enough truth in that perception of me for it to be useful. Anyway, it was funny to see how pissed off everyone became, seeing me looking like I’d never even heard of a hangover. It made it worth the sometimes considerable challenge of hiding my own. But to the point: no, I never had any lover’s braids.”

“And I don’t understand why.”

“Well, it’s horrid, of course,” Loki said, though the bitterness he’d expected in his voice seemed to have drained away with Thor’s fingers weaving through his hair. “Lover’s braids worthy of the name—I didn’t want to give them to anyone but you, for one thing.” He chuckled. “I fantasized about it. But why not? Other than the usual objection. So I never offered them. And I didn’t…I didn’t tend to seek out partners that would have offered them to me, first. If anyone did offer, I refused. It’s so much more intimate than a fuck, after all. I couldn’t predict what someone might want of me after giving me lover’s braids.”

“You’re the god of chaos and you were concerned with predictability that much?”

“Of course. I couldn’t be the most chaotic one if I didn’t know what others were going to do.” And that was all he would say. All. He would be quiet and just enjoy this; if he couldn’t shut up and enjoy Thor’s touch, what  _could_  he do?

But Thor couldn’t just shut up and touch him, apparently. “Was it really so…unknown to you, how people would act when they loved you?”

Loki clenched his teeth again. His instincts told him to agree, leave, and then carry on as if this night had never happened. But that meant predictability, or at least he would tell himself to see it that way; it made it easier to resist the impulse. “Thor. Don’t be a fool. Even if you never paid attention to the details of my life, at least you ought to have noticed the broad strokes.”

“I thought I did,” Thor said. His fingers remained as steady as ever, and Loki wished that was all he had to focus on. Why couldn’t this conversation be put off for another day, or never? “But I also know that you were careful about what everyone—anyone knew of you. Even me, and I flatter myself that I know you best.”

“You  _do_ ,” Loki said with a huff. “Which is why this conversation shouldn’t be necessary—”

“I can’t disregard how my love for you may lead me into assumptions about you that aren’t true. It was what I feared before I kissed you.  _Sometimes_  I can guess your thoughts, but—”

“But not now, since otherwise you’d gather that it feels rather cruel of you to keep leading me to admit that I was unloved and would not love freely for so many long years!” Thor’s hands stilled. Loki couldn’t see his face to know if he was going to say something, but he didn’t want to wait to find out. “You know you’re the ideal, and so you know that I am not! In a maddening number of ways! How could I be loved when you were always beside me, so much better—but neither could I move away from you, because I loved you, too!”

“Loki—I—”

“No. I—no, I don’t even want to talk about this. I’m tired of having to know and think of how I’ll always be in your shadow.”

“I’m sorry,” Thor said. “I didn’t think—”

“And now I know you can, so it’s worse,” Loki said.

“Very well, I suppose it’s not the time for a light ‘you never do.’” Thor’s hands resumed their work in Loki’s hair. “I can only think of things to say that might make this conversation worse.”

“Well, say them if you must, and afterwards maybe you’ll be able to say something else.”

“I gave lover’s braids to anyone I spent long enough with to do so,” Thor said.

It wasn’t what Loki had been expecting to hear. “That’s excessive,” he blurted. “And does that mean for you it  _doesn’t_  mean much—but I—it feels—oh, hell, I’ll just stop before I sound any more pathetic.”

Thor pressed one finger against his head—holding one end of a braid in place, no doubt—and stretched his hand so that his fingertips brushed down the side of Loki’s neck, making him shiver. “Maybe I didn’t think as much about it as you, but I always meant all the intimacy and love that the braids were supposed to mean. Odin probably would have lectured me about it if he’d noticed.”

“Thor. I mean this with the greatest seriousness: You were wasted in a warrior culture.”

“Perhaps many people are,” Thor said.

“No,” Loki said. “Or yes, or whatever. None of  _that_  seriousness; I don’t care to puzzle it out, now. Braid your love for me into my hair. I accept it, I want it, you’re the only one here and  _you’re_  not telling me I’m second best, are you?” He laughed wildly. “Oh, you’re awful. You’re so much the ideal and still, here you are, loving me.”

He laughed again. “And you—you tried to deny it by telling yourself that anyone might desire my form. When I am certainly not to the general Asgardian taste in any of my forms.”

“Loki, it’s not absurd for me to recognize your beauty. Your other partners must have—I mean, Asgard’s ideal was never the only form anyone wanted. Unless—this comes from you wanting me, and the way I appeared to cleave so closely to the ideal for so long?”

Loki grimaced. He was falling into the trap again, of thinking more about the idea of Thor caring for, loving, touching the idea of Loki, rather than the reality of the two of them in bed. Asgard had shaped them both, but it hadn’t managed to make them into exactly what they were supposed to be. And he didn’t need to survive on the  _idea_  of Thor anymore. He had the real Thor’s love, the real Thor seeing him and knowing him, and he knew that was so much better than the Thor in his fantasies. He just had to let himself really believe how much Thor wanted him. How much Thor loved him. A daunting goal. But still, it could be made easier by remembering that Thor still did not know all of him. Thor could love some of him. Thor could love the incomplete version of Loki that he knew. Yes. Loki could manage to believe that.

“Maybe,” Loki finally answered Thor. “It’s hard to not to think about Asgard when—well, lover’s braids are a very Asgardian thing.”

“Do you still want them?”

Loki sighed. “Yes, Thor. I want every sign of your love that you can think to give. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough. But I’m tired of thinking of the past that led me to become so desperately insatiable. So you’ll stop talking and I’ll stop talking and I’ll just…enjoy.”

Thor kissed the back of his head and his hands started moving again. Loki took a slow, deep breath. He could enjoy this and he would, without a busy mind creating a balance sheet of every touch, without calculating the exchange rate of favors, without diving into the construction of a new version of himself that would result in the least pain when he was inevitably discarded. He meant to be Thor’s as long as possible. Perhaps until one of them killed the other. He would permit no other threats to Thor to exist other than himself. A bold goal, considering…but he’d never done anything by halves.

And Thor’s fingers were in his hair, slow and gentle yet deft, yes, hands long-practiced at this, but Loki didn’t care. Thor was with him now; he wouldn’t let anything else matter to him. His eyes started to drift shut as Thor braided his way through the hair he could reach without making Loki change positions. Asymmetry always marked lover’s braids, the elaborate style on one side of the head—or at least, as elaborate a style as could be produced mostly one-handed. It felt as though Thor was going for a very elaborate style. A pleasant tingling chill crept up Loki’s spine and he shifted his shoulders. This moment…it was too good. Too fragile. Unpleasant as it was to think it, everything else could be forced. But not this. If it wasn’t genuine and freely offered, it couldn’t happen. Not in the same way. Not in a way where the falsity could be forgotten.

He had Thor’s love. That’s what this showed. And to have it after everything he’d done ought to mean that it was near-unbreakable, but to know that love the way he did now…well, he’d have to work diligently to make sure he didn’t lose it. And it wouldn’t be easy, even if Thor did love him as he was. He couldn’t harm anything that Thor cared about, for one thing. All right. And Thor would doubtless like it if Loki not only didn’t harm, but actively protected the things, and people, he cared about. But Thor cared about so many people. More to the point, he cared about Loki. This might get complicated. And, though there was no question of Loki ever being a hero—he refused to get caught up in  _that_  nonsense; he had enough of his own—on the balance, overall…

Loki pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Well, if Thor was going to fuck anyone into being on the side of the heroes more often than not, he was glad it was him.

Thor spread his hand over the side of Loki’s head, covering the braids and causing warmth to spread from Loki’s scalp to the rest of his body. Maybe they really would go to sleep, Loki thought. Maybe they should get a blanket to cover themselves…but that would require moving, and Loki wasn’t at all interested in that right now.

But Thor wasn’t quite asleep, yet. His fingers moved against Loki’s temple, softly, lazily, before they began to drift down the side of his face, lightly mapping cheekbone, and jawbone, and—ah. Settling on his neck. Just a gentle touch, but it still interrupted the slow rhythm of his breath. Thor stopped, and Loki gave a small, low hum of amusement. “Well, don’t stop now,” he said.

“Loki,” Thor said, and for a while that seemed all he was inclined to say. His fingers moved gently on Loki’s throat, stroking and caressing, and Loki let himself drift in the sensation, not wanting to fully wake yet, not wanting to risk the kind of wakefulness that would send him analyzing this careful treatment that felt so good. Yet even without picking apart the moment, his heart still beat faster than before at how absolutely vulnerable he was to Thor now. Heat kindled in the pit of his stomach with every touch Thor gave him, and his cock began to fill once more.

“Thor?” Loki said.

“Yes?” Thor said, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper. He used his whole hand to cover the side of Loki’s neck, then, as if that was part of his reply as well. And then he pressed down with that large, warm, hand, oh so warm it was almost hot, the pressure just enough to be definite, unmistakable, irresistible. Loki, pliant and unthinking in the moment, moaned. “Loki,” Thor said again, lifting the pressure but not his hand. He leaned forward to press a kiss behind Loki’s ear. “You  _are_  beautiful. I want you to hear that from me. There’s no need for me to try and build a denial for myself, now, saying that you’re beautiful to everyone so of course I’d desire you. However many people find you stunning doesn’t matter. Because I do. You’re breathtaking. Gorgeous.”

“Mm. You can go on,” Loki said.

Thor laughed a little, and slid his hand across Loki’s shoulder and over to eventually rest on his arm. “I wish you’d been able to escape from comparison to me,” Thor said. “Because you’re strong, too, as well as beautiful.”

“What?” Loki said.        

“I mean it. Just because you could never catch up with me doesn’t mean that your hard work didn’t pay off. I know how stringy you were when you first got tall. You’ve filled out. You just tend towards leanness.”

“I’m—again, what?”

“You know you could beat most challengers in a fair fight, if you ever bothered to have one. Not me, but maybe I’m not the best person to compare yourself to. I mean, just the stuff you’ve survived. And I don’t know the worst of that, either.”

Loki felt himself blushing, and hoped the color wouldn’t spread to his ears or neck where Thor could see. “Bringing up the things I’ve survived is  _not_  erotic,” Loki protested, telling himself as much as Thor.

“Sorry,” Thor said. He sounded so genuine Loki wanted to turn around and bite him, but that would have revealed both his blush and his erection.

“I should have quit when I was ahead,” Thor went on. “I just wanted you to understand I recognize your physical power and I find it very…appealing.” Thor ran his hand slowly down Loki’s arm. Loki’s mind could only reel as he did so, feeling in the journey of that hand Thor’s true appreciation of every fiber of hard-earned muscle.

This was…this was…surreal. Huge, broad, beautiful Thor was telling him that  _he_  was strong, that  _he_  was gorgeous? Even accepting the reality of each other and the reality of their love hadn’t been as difficult as accepting this. He couldn’t stand it.

So, even though he’d just decided to keep some aspects of himself out of sight to make the fact that Thor loved what he knew easier to accept, he changed his mind now and decided that he had to remind Thor of some things, reveal some things, if only to break the moment. Thor’s hand reached his, fingers twining through Loki’s, as if he never intended to let go. Impossible. Loki had to make him.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten where some of that strength you like must come from,” Loki said. Thor made some soft sound, of inquiry, of agreement—Loki wasn’t paying attention at the moment. He had to focus to do what he was going to do, though it wasn’t really difficult. The problem, of course, was that to do anything that required magic, he had to want the result. And he had never wanted this.

But he did want to make Thor understand what he was loving so extravagantly.

He told himself that he couldn’t actually feel anything as the paleness he’d grown so used to was subsumed in the deep blue spreading from his fingertips and up his arm. But while it was true that the creeping blue didn’t feel like a glove full of some vile, burning slime—that sensation had only ever been in his head, and he’d worked hard to overcome it, refusing to have one of his true forms closed to him, even if he hated it—it was not merely a change in color, either. Thor’s touch felt hotter on Jotun skin than Asgardian, and under that skin, he could feel tiny shifts in the bone and muscle that undeniably showed that this true form was of a different species. Yes, thickened bones, changed points of muscle and tendon attachment, all tending towards increased mechanical advantage, though that would never make such a difference when facing someone like Thor.

Thor, who had still not pulled away. “Are you even looking?” Loki asked sharply.

“Yes,” Thor said. “And even if I wasn’t, I can feel how your skin has gotten cooler.”

“Exactly,” Loki said. “Do I have to go through this step by step?”

“No,” Thor said, “but maybe I do. I didn’t forget this about you. The events surrounding your discovery of your Jotun heritage were memorable, to say the least, and possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made played a major part. So the Jotun were our traditional enemies. I  _have_  learned that attacking on primarily that basis is a bad idea, especially if done as a sort of game, regardless of any political…or personal…considerations. And besides,” Thor said, “does it make any sense, with me knowing so much of what you’ve done—and with a good deal of it done  _to_  me—that I would stop loving you because of what you  _are_?”

“Not…stop,” Loki said. “Just…love me…in a more measured…rational…manner.”

Thor gave a skeptical hum. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Thor!” Loki said, amid a startled laugh. “I—” He sighed. “I thought maybe this could be the final straw.”

“Loki,” Thor said carefully, “I said I would love you in whatever way you needed me to. I don’t know if I could just tell myself to love you less, but if you really don’t want—”

“Oh, shut up,” Loki interrupted him. “I want as much love as you’ll give me. And I act rashly when there’s the possibility of losing you. It’s not a good conversation for you to start when you’re naked.”

“Then what was all that about final straws?” Thor asked. He squeezed the hand Loki had allowed to become Jotun, and Loki closed his eyes at the sweet burn.

“I…well, perhaps I have simply managed to love you enough to want the best for you,” Loki said. It wasn’t a complete answer, but, well, he’d never be able to give a complete answer for anything that touched on his feelings and actions towards Thor. This had more truth in it than he’d be willing to share in any other circumstances, and Thor would have to be content with it. Especially since it was enough truth that all of Loki’s instincts were screaming at him to say no more. He ignored them. He’d done plenty of reckless things for Thor’s love; what were a few more? “And I am not the best for you. I want you, yes. I’ve wanted you madly for so long. I—it’s delicious to have you, but it is wrong. And so I shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…” He gave a bitter laugh. “I’m supposed to be the one skilled in speech. Here’s part of it, then: For me to be worthy of your love, I must conclude that I shouldn’t have it.”

Thor was silent at first, but he didn’t let go of Loki’s hand. “I think,” he said, “that all talk of worthiness has done you a great disservice. But…let me think. I know that what you’ve said isn’t everything…but I don’t think I’ll know everything you’re holding back, either. All I can say is that you have my love. I want you. I don’t want anyone you think is more worthy. I mean, imagine the danger to anyone you put between us.”

“All right, I admit I would handle that situation poorly, even if I set it up.” Loki laughed a little. “You’re really going to insist on loving me as myself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Thor said, simply and stubbornly. “All and any of your selves.”

“Oh, that’s so unwise,” Loki breathed. But Thor had calmed the storm in him, and he wasn’t saying this to try to dissuade him. He wanted to revel in it, instead, Thor’s unwavering love. He could live with any number of contradictions for that. He could ignore any number of voices in the back of his head saying he didn’t deserve him, that the only way to show his love would be to never show his desire. Thor would never want him to listen to such voices, especially when Thor’s desire for him had been so very, very clear.

“True,” said Thor, “but I’ve never been wise with you, brother.”

A smile spread slowly across Loki’s face. “Is it easier to say that with a cold blue hand in yours?” he asked. “Would it be easier to feel that thrill, if ‘brother’ fell from my lips while your hands roamed across the twilight sky of Jotun skin?”

“I don’t know,” Thor said. His voice sounded as if his throat was dry.

Loki let the change in his skin creep up above his elbow. “Maybe it wouldn’t be easier,” he said. “Maybe the taboo would double, then. An ancient enemy, with your brother’s voice, eagerly spread beneath you. Oh, yes, I think we should try that.”

“Loki.”

“Not tonight, though,” Loki said. “If I shift completely, I’d lose the braids you gave me. And I refuse to do that. Besides…I also want you to think about it, for a while.”

“I will,” Thor said, and Loki grinned.

“If you’re willing to think about that, I have something else for you to think about, too,” Loki said. What he was about to say was something he’d planned to keep a secret, but if Thor said he would love all his forms, he ought to know about this one, too. “I have more than one Jotun appearance.”

“Like you have more than one Asgardian appearance,” Thor said.

“Almost, but not quite,” Loki said. “Think of the Jotun form you know—it’s just me, with whorled blue skin, with red eyes. No frost giant has ever looked like that. Like that, I’m a midpoint. A hybrid of my strange history. But when I reach that hybrid point, I know…I could keep changing. The true form beyond that is of a Jotun hearthman.”

“A hearthman,” Thor repeated. “Of course…”

“Yes—if you’re thinking that’s why it was so easy for me to change between Asgardian forms, before I learned any other magic, with only the insistence of others to tell me I was a boy first. But I was a hearthchild before that.”

“I never knowingly saw a hearthman up close,” Thor said. “Even when Jotun-Asgardian relations were stable enough for diplomatic negotiations. And certainly they didn’t make themselves obvious if they were ever on the battlefield.”

“No,” Loki said. “Anyone who knew what hearthmen were to the Jotun would go for them first. It would be so wonderfully demoralizing to the rest. But then again, who knows for sure what hearthmen do or don’t do? Not Asgard. The information we had about the Jotun was deplorably sparse, apart from how to fight them. All our sources about hearthmen or anything else were outdated by the time we were grown. But I suppose inquiry would have led to a risk of speculation about me, so those lines of study were discouraged.”

“And it made it easier to pick fights with them.” Thor only sounded weary, now. “Asgard will never return to such ways under my hand.” He rubbed his thumb against Loki’s. “Perhaps, after such a past, I shouldn’t ask to see your hearthman’s form.”

“That kind of should or shouldn’t is something I don’t have much interest in,” Loki said. “My life has been Asgardian. Not typical, not ideal, but Asgardian all the same. I know nothing of what it means to be a hearthman in Jotun culture. What I have is the body of a hearthman, if I want. It’s one of my true forms. It’s  _my_  body. And I…I want you to love all of my bodies, if you love any of them.” Loki grimaced. What a naked truth. “One right after another might be interesting, sometime.”

Thor chuckled softly. “Very interesting. And I think I could do that, for you.” They were both quiet for a little while, until Thor broke the silence. “What  _do_  you look like, as a hearthman?”

Oh, that first transformation. The terror of becoming something that was so far from his accustomed form, a terror heightened by the comfort at the core of the change, the comfort that told him this shape was just as true as his man’s or woman’s form. To be a snake or a wolf or a horse or another Asgardian never held such terror, because those shapes were not his own, because he’d had to study them like a tailor intending to replicate a garment. He’d  _known_  such shapes before wearing them, but they weren’t him, and they revealed nothing about him. But his full and complete Jotun form—he didn’t know what he would look like once he’d changed, other than himself, but a  _himself_  that he’d never seen before. The truth about his heritage had been broken open so recently; he wasn’t sure he could stand any more truths about himself, especially ones written down to his marrow. But he had to know. Though he’d never felt less like playing, the truth still remained: the less you knew about reality, the less you could play with it, the less you could manipulate it, the less you could change it. So he had to know. Like always.

It hadn’t been easy, thanks to the reluctance that he couldn’t quite manage to quash, but he’d still managed it the first time he’d decided to try. And then he’d known. And he’d kept what he’d known to himself, until now.

It wasn’t the strangest line he’d crossed today. He’d keep the details of his terror to himself, though.

“Still blue, naturally,” he said. “With my same build. But half again as tall as you, which I do believe makes me the broader, for once.” 

“Hmm.” Thor’s hum was low, speculative.

“The shape of my face stays mostly the same—I don’t think the changes are worth describing now. And there’s much I think only a skilled shapeshifter would note. But there are a few changes that would be noticeable to anyone. I have breasts, as a hearthman. Not as impressive, proportionally, as those I have when I’m a woman, but considering the increase in height…well. I’m sure you can imagine, until I show you.”

“I can. Yes. I can.”

“Good,” Loki said, relaxing more as he drew Thor away from the more serious turn of their conversation. It wasn’t as though he wanted always to avoid difficult conversations with Thor—considering their shared past, the only way to avoid difficult conversations might be to not speak to each other at all. But he hadn’t yet had all he wanted from Thor on this astounding, glorious night, and getting it wouldn’t be facilitated by digging through a history of war. “It  _is_  all about the proportions, you know. Have your thoughts led you there, yet? To the cock I’d have, in that form? You took it so gladly, earlier. Could you manage one half again as large? I’m sure you could; you obviously like getting fucked, and I wouldn’t dare to wager that a giant’s cock is the largest one you’ve taken.”

Thor chuckled. “I admit I may have foolishly risen to a challenge on more than one occasion. Women with certain kinds of collections usually also had certain curiosities that I did my best to satisfy. So I can say with some confidence that with you, in any form…I will find far more delight than physical challenge.”

Loki licked his lips. “Good,” he said. “I’d hate to ever have to hold back with you.”

“As if you ever would,” Thor said. He paused for a moment. “Are those changes…I mean to say, it’s also said of hearthmen…”

Loki hummed. “Oh, Thor…you want me to tell you about the cunt I have as a hearthman. I’m afraid I haven’t spent enough time in that form to make a thorough investigation. But if you’re worried about the effect of proportionality in that part, well. I think  _you’ll_  still be able to fill me up the way I need you to—and I’ll be able to grip and hold you as much as you need, as much as you desire, too.”

“I—I look forward to finding out,” Thor said.

“It would be a rare thing for you, wouldn’t it,” Loki mused. “You’d be smaller in my arms than even Jane was in yours. You might not like it.”

“With you, I think I’d like almost anything,” Thor said.

“What an extraordinarily dangerous thing to say,” Loki said, even as Thor unlaced his fingers from his and ran his hand up his half-blue arm. “I might  _ask_  you for anything.”

“I know,” Thor said. “And I’ll try most things. Go ahead. Ask me for something. You deserve some kind of royal boon, and since the palace got destroyed all I’ve got to offer is the body of the king.”

“First of all,” Loki said, suddenly on the edge of laughter, “if you offer that kind of royal boon to anyone else I will do my absolute worst to you. Just so we’re clear. And second of all, after talking of  _anything_ , what I want  _right now_  is…rather ordinary.”

“Then it will be an easy boon to grant, I hope,” Thor said. His hand had ended up resting on Loki’s neck again, where he’d be able to feel Loki’s pulse speeding.

“Right,” Loki said. He felt his face heating again, but wasn’t it so much better to have the chance to say exactly what he wanted? To speak his desires aloud and not rely on some kind of some kind of fantastic, brutal intuition on Thor’s part?

Oh, of course it was better, immeasurably so. With such an improvement on his fantasies, with everything Thor was to him—well, he couldn’t concern himself with his blush. At this point, he could probably only not blush by being dead.

“I want you to fuck me, Thor.” It was a relief to say it aloud, a relief that warmed his body and completely unstopped his tongue. “It’s been my favorite fantasy for years and years and  _years_. You have no idea how many times I’ve come with your name in my mouth, the poor substitute of a toy pressed inside me. I want to feel your hands all over me; I want to feel the thick heat of your cock inside me. I want—I want all your power, directed towards my pleasure. I—I’ve had many fantasies where you were rough, but that’s not exactly what drives me mad; what I want is your strength. It’s thrilled me so many times when we fought in play or in earnest. Call me strong if you want, but I want your strength, not because of the envy which was all I dared express, but over me on top of me in me. I want you to fuck me so hard I forget everything but the existence of your body and mine.” He laughed when he finished, a wild, helpless laugh. Just finally speaking it aloud, even after their other couplings, had made him fully hard again.

“Loki,” Thor said, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him close with that thrilling, inexorable strength. “I will be glad to grant that boon. As—as often as you wish.”

Loki chuckled and squirmed a little where Thor’s hard cock now pressed against him. “Isn’t that another dangerous offer?”

“I don’t care,” Thor said.

One of his hands roved over Loki’s chest and stomach, and Loki shivered. Everything felt unique with Thor, and it would be cliché to say that he’d never get enough of him, if also true, in that he’d never stop wanting Thor. But it would be just as true to say that Thor might be the only one able to give him enough to satisfy the vast want within him.

“Will you be glad for me to take you from behind?” Thor asked, interrupting Loki’s thoughts with something far more relevant than whether he could think about his feelings for Thor in a suitably impressive way.

“Fuck yes,” Loki said.

Thor gave him a comically loud, smacking kiss on the back of his neck and lightly slapped his thigh before rolling away. “Get comfortable, then, so I can get you ready.”

Loki briefly considered teasing Thor about apparently forgetting about the ‘I want to feel your hands all over me’ part of his demand, but, he’d waited long enough. And, ultimately, he trusted Thor to pleasure him. He settled on his hands and knees, cock bobbing where it jutted out from him, hard as if he hadn’t already come three times tonight. He turned to look at Thor, at the moment deftly picking up one of the little bottles of oil. Thor caught him looking and gave him a slow, besotted grin.

“You really are lovely like this,” he said.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Talk when you’re touching me,” he said.

Thor nodded his acceptance, and in an instant he was beside Loki—not talking, though, but bending down to give Loki a kiss. “I hope I can live up to everything you’ve imagined of me,” he said when he finally pulled back, his voice low, quiet, warm. Just for Loki.

Loki huffed a breathy laugh. He wasn’t about to tell the truth, that Thor had already proved himself far better than his fantasies. “I’m not going to flatter you  _now_ ,” he said. “I want you to  _work_.”

Thor gave him another quick kiss. “I see,” he said, and rested one large hand in the center of Loki’s back. “As you wish, then.”

Loki took a shivering breath as Thor stood up and pulled his hand slowly down the length of Loki’s spine. It felt like a sudden spear of sunlight in a cold room, dizzying after a day of dimness. But it didn’t burn. Thor’s skin and his were hot, and would get hotter, but none of the heat had fire’s harm in it, no, not with— _as you wish_. Yes, Thor’s hands were on him because he wanted them there, and Thor knew it and wanted to touch him, too. He’d imagined—he’d had to imagine—that this moment might be forced, his humiliation or Thor’s, his punishment at Thor’s hands for something, anything, a bad bet, a bed trick, a lesson in things other than pleasure, something not to be repeated. But all that was gone, now, with Thor’s hands moving in broad, caressing waves over his back and sides. He had to press close to Loki to touch him like this, of course, which meant that the hot, hard, length of his cock was nestled along the cleft of Loki’s ass, an insistent promise.

But Loki had asked for touch, first, and Thor was going to give that to him. Even though Thor must have heard Loki’s ragged breath at the small sound of the oil opening, what he did first with those strong hands now smooth and slick was slide them again over all the skin he’d touched before. When he bent forward, the better to reach Loki’s shoulders, the better to reach his chest, Loki could feel how much oil remained between his back and Thor’s stomach. 

It was a luxuriant, profligate use of the stuff, and Loki delighted that such had been Thor’s idea as much as he delighted in the way their bodies slipped against each other. Thor wouldn’t be a king inclined to decadence, no, but Loki would be glad to draw out the sliver of him that was still marked by that aspect of their princely youth when they were alone together. A Thor with no concern but pleasure was  _his_  Thor.

Thor’s roving hands finally paused on his nipples to lightly pinch and tease them, and Loki groaned and thoughtlessly shifted his hips against Thor. “Thor, I need you to fuck me,” Loki said. “ _Now._ ”

Thor’s laugh was low and breathy. “Soon—very soon—you know I don’t have the patience to really tease—but I want you to feel how I care for all of you.”

“I know that already, Thor, I—” Thor’s hands left his chest and caressed down his stomach, over every trembling muscle.

“I know you know it,” Thor said. “I want you to feel it.”

Loki could reply only with a heavy breath as Thor kissed the back of his neck and his hands slid below his navel. Tenderness was deadlier than desire, but to be in Thor’s hands and feel both—perhaps he had been wrong about the inability of this warmth to burn. He made soft, incoherent sounds as Thor’s hands slid around to rest for a moment on hips, then slowly traced his hipbones lower and lower. When they finally left those guiding lines, one hand warmly cupped his balls and the other gave his cock a smooth, perfect stroke. But just one. Loki swore when Thor released him, earning himself another kiss on his back.

“I thought you wanted something else,” Thor said, shifting his hips slightly.

“I want whatever I can get from you,” Loki said. He pushed back against Thor and smiled at his sharp intake of breath.

“You’ll get everything,” Thor said. “Everything.” He moved back from Loki a little way, and Loki’s first impulse was to complain at the loss of his warmth. But then Thor had one hand on his hip and the other, re-slicked with oil, sliding between his buttocks.

“Finally,” Loki said, when Thor pushed one finger slowly inside him. The sharpness he’d intended for the word was lost on the way to his mouth, and it became a sigh of relief. Finally Thor was inside him, finally this line of intimacy would be crossed. Thor’s hands were warm and gentle on him and in him, and he’d mock himself for the way his body sang at such care—as if it was something he could ever have expected—but whether it was something reasonable for him to have wanted or not, it was happening now, easing even _his_ thoughts. “More,” he said, tilting his hips up and spreading his knees a little wider. “I’m—hardly inexperienced in this.”

Thor chuckled, but obligingly added another finger. “I want you to have nothing but pleasure from me,” he said. “I need to be sure—I want you so badly—I need to be sure, at every step. And do you—do you want me to have my own pleasure, too?”

“Of course I do; what do you think—”

“Then if I am going to do this taboo thing…brother, I need to know that you want everything I do to you.”

“This again,” Loki said. There were games to be played with that, dark games, but at this moment, Loki didn’t care. The slide of Thor’s fingers felt too good; the length of his cock would feel even better. Loki would be obliging for that, especially since in this case it would feel so much like being demanding. “Give me another finger, then. We both know I need it to be ready for your cock in the way you want me to be—ah—”

“Thank you,” Thor said, and he sounded a little breathless, too.

Loki pushed back against Thor’s hand, letting his eyes drift half-closed as Thor worked him with a steady rhythm. Thor could do this for as long as he needed to and then beyond, Loki thought, picturing the hills of muscle in Thor’s arms. And it did feel good, good enough that Loki would want to figure out how best to ask Thor to torture him with those big, gorgeous hands someday, keeping him stretched open and hot and hard and not allowed to come for hours. But that was a game for another time. “Faster,” Loki said, groaning when Thor obeyed, both from the increased sensation and from the irresistible thrill Thor’s obedience would always bring. Would it be a taunt to him, that he did Loki’s will so readily, so sweetly? Probably not, considering, but Thor didn’t want him to be quiet, and it wasn’t like he could think of much else. “Feels so good when you do as you’re told.”

Thor chuckled and moved the hand on Loki’s hip to give one of his buttocks a cheeky pinch. “And your commands are easiest to follow in this position.”

Loki snorted a laugh, which turned into an altogether more obscene sound when Thor curled his fingers inside him in an exploratory, but shockingly accurate way. A little spurt of precome fell from Loki’s cock to the sheets, and every exhale turned into pants and moans as Thor continued to massage his prostate. Had his cock been this hard, had it been so wet when Thor’s mouth was on it? When Thor’s hand was on it? Had he been so desperate even when fucking Thor? All those exquisite pleasures, but now an exquisite torture was added. He could tell Thor what he wanted, but so much was still up to Thor. He was in Thor’s hands. He was not in control.

But that was all right. Because he trusted this Thor, the real Thor, his Thor. His Thor, who loved him, which was why he was doing so much to draw formless moans from his throat and to make him wonder if he would come without his cock being touched. Loki had managed it himself, rarely, at likely near the same age when Thor was showing himself off in the bathhouse, and when he did he’d always been fantasizing about Thor fucking him, and now—

Oh, Thor’s hands were  _made_  for this, but enough was enough.

“O—one more order, then,” Loki managed to say.

“Yes?” Oh, it sounded so sweet, but it also sounded as if Thor was probably smirking. Horrible, he couldn’t even see Thor’s expression and still it sent a throb through his cock. Loki bit the inside of his cheek to force himself to focus, because naturally he wanted to be absolutely clear on this next point.

“Fuck me,” Loki said. “I’m beyond ready and I need you to fuck me, I need your cock, your might, your strength, Thor, fuck me!”

“I will,” Thor said. “I will.” He took his hand away from Loki and with the other calmingly stroked his thigh.

Or maybe not calmingly. Maybe he just wanted to feel Loki’s flesh under his hand. That was just as likely, wasn’t it?

Either way, it didn’t matter. Loki caught a few soft, slick sounds, and then Thor was carefully entering him. Loki moaned involuntarily—Thor had been determined that this would be only pleasurable for Loki, and he’d succeeded in this as he had in so much else. And Loki found himself profoundly grateful for that determination, the sweet aching frustration of preparation, for now the way his body had to stretch to welcome Thor’s cock was no shock to his muscles, and he could enjoy—everything. His heat, his thickness, his length. Loki couldn’t say he was unfamiliar with it; he’d learned Thor’s cock with his mouth that very evening, but it was still a new sensation—a delicious, almost overwhelming one—to have Thor enter him like this.

After an age, a golden age, Thor’s hips were flush with his, Thor’s cock completely inside him. It was shocking, how good it felt, not just physically, but emotionally, too. Any and every storm within him had calmed. He had Thor and Thor had him. He couldn’t doubt it when their bodies were like this. “Oh,  _brother_ ,” Loki sighed, shifting his hips slightly against Thor.

“Loki,” Thor said raggedly. “Loki.” He adjusted the grip of his hands on Loki’s hips. Loki heard the click as he swallowed with a dry throat. “Brother.”

Loki grinned. “Fuck me,” he said once more.

When Thor moved, Loki’s grin melted into an open-mouthed expression of bliss. “Yes, yes,” he breathed, his eyes drifting half-shut as Thor thrust into him with a deep, steady rhythm. He’d give Thor every single yes he could say, just so long as he wouldn’t stop. He was loved, he was fulfilled, and if it was absurd to feel this way because he finally had the particular big, hard cock in his ass that he’d wanted for so long, he didn’t care. Under Thor’s hands, taking Thor, he felt more real than he had for longer than he cared to think about. It was good, so good, to be in his body now. He forgave his nerves for all the pain they’d transported through his body over the years; he blessed the sensitivity they had to let him feel the pleasure Thor was giving him now. He let himself fall into a rhythm with Thor, easy as when they fought side by side, but better, better, better.

His yeses started to become lost in mere sounds of pleasure, and how astonishing it was to have every single one be genuine, the most truth he’d ever told at once, oh yes. And these wordless truths served him well, got him more of what he wanted, for every little moan or gasp acted as a spur to Thor, adding a touch of frantic speed to his thrusts or revealing that there was still much power that he was holding back.

Even these small variations were enough to bring Loki ever so close to the edge of coming. If he’d been approaching his first orgasm of the night, it would have already happened, even if he’d remained untouched, and even if he’d been trying to hold back, for such was the unnamable depth of his love for Thor, body and soul. Even embarrassment at the sentiment in such thoughts wouldn’t distract him now, wouldn’t help him make this last longer, especially when he couldn’t help but think of how his first orgasm of the night had been into Thor’s generous, eager mouth. Oh, there was nothing to think of but pleasure, there was nothing to feel but pleasure; he wanted to draw it out but did he really need to? He could have this again, couldn’t he? Was there even anything else for him  _to_  want, now?

Thor adjusted his angle, and Loki’s position—that effortless strength!—just slightly, enough so that his cock better met Loki’s prostate. Loki swore and briefly arched his back even more deeply at that (and also, truth be told, at the way Thor laughed and said, “thanks for your approval”).

There was no point in holding back now, that much was clear to Loki. And indeed, for both of them to know that—that was the one thing he wanted that he didn’t yet have.

“Thor, I—I can tell—you’re still restrained,” Loki panted. “Did you forget—how durable I am? I want—more—all—”

“Loki,” Thor said reverently. And then gave him exactly what he’d asked for.

There was nothing to do then but lose himself in sensation, and Loki did so gratefully. Could he have made some reference to hammers that Thor hadn’t heard before? Probably not. Could he have come up with some skilled metaphor about the heavy, driving rain of a summer thunderstorm. Probably. But any words, cliché or art, would have distanced him from the intoxicating movement of Thor’s cock inside him, of Thor’s hands on his hips and thighs and back and sides. He couldn’t quite keep up with Thor, but the mismatches between their movements now only highlighted the reality of the moment, only added to the pleasure.

And then Thor took hold of his hips, took control of all their motion. Loki closed his eyes and gladly relinquished that control. Who could care what meaning could be drawn from that, when all reality had narrowed to Thor? Oh, yes, he ached to come, but that ache mingled so sweetly with how good it felt to have Thor fucking him this hard, fucking him like he deserved such fine treatment.

In a haze of physical joy, he gained enough clarity to pay attention to the sounds between him and Thor; how incredible, how obscene, flesh against flesh and the breathy tones of the moans that fell from his own throat, and, oh yes, such heavy breathing from Thor. Loki gave a deep groan, and thought he was going to come right then, to hear how hard Thor was working to please him.

But he didn’t, and maybe Thor heard some frustration in the sounds he made, or maybe he was on the edge, too, having so freely used his strength to fuck Loki into pliancy.

Either way—“Loki,” Thor said, “what do you want me to do to make you come?”

No time for thought, no care for thought. “Keep going, and—hair—” Loki gasped.

Thor at once let go of one of Loki’s hips, skated it over the arch of his back, and grasped all of Loki’s hair that wasn’t in lover’s braids in one massive fist. He pulled without roughness, because what need was there with such unstoppable strength? The slight pain honed Loki’s every sensation, and if he keened or if his voice had dwindled to nothing but breath, he didn’t know. He’d never felt that he’d belonged more to Thor, and it was glorious. He clenched around the hard, hot, thick length of Thor, and came, untouched. His orgasm rushed through him in a wave, in a cloudburst of ecstasy, overwhelming every possible thought. Past and future disappeared, leaving only the complete perfection of these moments.

As he trembled with the aftershocks, Thor’s hand left his hair to join the other in grasping his hips once more, and there was no mistaking the urgency of his thrusts. There was no mistaking, either, what he was saying—“Loki, Loki, Loki”—as if repeating his name was vital for him to reach the peak of his pleasure.

Loki smiled. Oh, that would be good to remember, even if he never had to rely on fantasies again. “Come in me, Thor,” he said, and almost laughed at how dazed he sounded. “Come in me, brother.” 

“Loki!” Thor cried helplessly, the name changing to nothing but a sound as he buried himself deep within, throbbing, pulsing, filling him.

Loki welcomed this tribute, his heart light with knowing again, in this way, that Thor wouldn’t deny the reality of the forbidden nature of their love, and still felt the allure and still loved him all the same within that awful knowledge.

A soft smile, unfamiliar but oh so good, lit Loki’s face as Thor came and came, but it quickly changed into an expression of surprise, even shock. Thin, sharp lines of heat spread outward from Thor’s hands on his hips, sparks racing across his skin, and the sense of wild magic and the scent of ozone briefly overwhelmed any other sensation.

Loki didn’t need to see the flickering out of the corners of his eyes or hear the crackle of superheated air to realize what was happening, though he did both.

 Thor was touching him with that power that wasn’t only physical, the deep well of Asgardian magic that had caused Thor to be worshipped as a god on Midgard. He  _had_  given Loki absolutely everything.

From that perspective, even lightning could feel like a caress. In the typhoon of conflicting physical sensations and emotions, Loki shuddered, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let himself be swept away by the only response his body would allow him—a strange, sudden orgasm of the mind.

He didn’t know what sounds he made then, if sounds he made. He didn’t know what his body did, if it did anything. All he knew was that this felt obliteratingly good, and that only Thor could make him feel this way.

When his mind returned to a more coherent pattern, he found himself in the midst of Thor carefully turning him onto his back and saying his name over and over again, not with ecstasy this time, but worry. Loki blinked a few times, trying to focus. He didn’t want to focus, because focus meant thinking, and right now he felt no need to do that. He felt wrung out, washed clean,  _sated_. He felt at peace, loved, worthy, and hardly at all foolish that getting fucked by Thor had made him feel this way.

“Shh, Thor,” he said. “I’m fine. Fantastic.”

Thor gave an altogether too dramatic sigh of relief and sank down beside him on the bed. “I thought I hurt you,” he said. “I’m not used to having my powers without Mjolnir and of all the times to let my control slip—”

“Thor. Shh. Said I wanted all your power, didn’t I? What happened was you made me come twice in a row; you didn’t get anywhere near to killing me with your cock or whatever you were afraid happened.”

Thor chuckled a little and took a deep breath. “All right. All right. But, Loki—look at your hips.”

Loki lazily twisted his head to look down at himself, and had to admit that maybe Thor’s worries hadn’t been completely ridiculous. It certainly looked dramatic, anyway, the pale patches in the shape of Thor’s hands surrounded by the branched, spiking patterns of lightning flowers in vivid red. They spread halfway down his thighs and more than a handspan up his sides. His back might be even more heavily marked, but he couldn’t tell. “They don’t hurt,” he said, touching some of the marks with his fingertips. “You didn’t want to hurt me.” He turned to Thor with a wicked little smile. “All you wanted to do was please me, and so your power did.”

“Good,” Thor said, smiling and cradling the side of Loki’s face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever been pleased so well as I have this night.” 

Loki closed his eyes. It was an extravagant claim to make, from someone so desired for so many centuries, but if Thor felt like it was the truth, then Loki would be glad to hear it. Love made one say such things, after all.

“I know I never have been,” Loki said, then laughed at himself. “Don’t think this means that you can get lazy now, though.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thor said.

“Good,” Loki said. “I quite like being sated.” His eyes fell mostly closed, but he didn’t miss Thor’s grin. Well, let him grin. Loki felt like a land where a drought had just ended. He touched the lightning flowers again. “I wish I could show these off. I suppose there’s no chance of us leaving and going to some distant part of the galaxy where no one knows we’re brothers, or of Asgard?”

“No,” Thor said, and kissed him on the forehead.

“Ah, well. I suppose you wouldn’t be the one I loved if there was. Couldn’t not ask, though.”

Thor kissed him again, on the mouth this time. It was slow and sweet and it terrified Loki how easily he accepted it.

“Rest,” Thor whispered when their lips parted. “I’ll be back soon.”

It would be the done thing for Loki to go with Thor to clean up, but Loki didn’t want to ruin his languor, or call on his legs to support him right now. If Thor wasn’t going to carry him anywhere, he wasn’t going to go anywhere. He let himself doze—had he  _ever_  been this relaxed after sex? And not just relaxed, but peaceful? All of Asgard might have called for Thor to fuck him if they’d known what a balm it would be to his mind and spirit, how much it would soothe the wildness within him. Well.  _Maybe_. Anyway, it didn’t matter and he didn’t care. He had Thor’s love now. If he couldn’t always make himself believe it, he could have Thor show him. Again, and again, and again.

When Thor returned to the bed he pulled Loki to his side and drew a blanket over them both. “I’m going to kick it off,” Loki said, twining himself even tighter against Thor. “You’re so warm.”

“So I’ve been told,” Thor said with a chuckle.

Loki pinched him. “You’re the one who’s reduced me to clichés.”

Thor hummed and brushed a hand over Loki’s hair, over the mussed lovers’ braids.

Loki sighed. “Those will have to come out before I leave this room.”

“I know,” Thor said gently.

For a time they said no more. Thor reached up to a panel behind the bed and turned the lights down.

Loki had almost fallen asleep when he spoke again, causing a flash of irritation which was immediately overwhelmed by the delight of this new context in which Thor had irritated him. Was  _this_  part of love, too? Good thing he’d only loved Thor, then. No one else deserved it.

“Loki,” Thor said, “I must lead the remnant of Asgard. I won’t leave them. But I don’t want anything to separate us, either. I can’t propose to you in the usual way, so…Loki, will you be my chief advisor? No one else is expected to be closer to the king.”

Loki struggled in Thor’s embrace to get to where he could better peer at Thor’s face, reaching out to slap the lights on again. “Are you saying,” he said, “that you would have proposed marriage to someone with  _my_  history with you after  _one good night_?”

Thor smiled up at him, squinting in the sudden brightness.

“You  _do_  need an advisor,” Loki said. “I accept.”

Thor smiled even wider, eye also wide with happy wonder now that it’d adjusted to the light. Loki groaned and turned the lights off again.

“My first piece of advice is that you wait until everyone is settled on Earth to make this decision known,” Loki said, curling up against Thor. “At least make it seem like you took some time to make such an unwise choice.”

“Of course,” Thor said. “I want to be able to properly celebrate you. Procession, assembly, feast, music, dancing—everything.  Even a chocolate fountain.”

“You know those aren’t real,” Loki said through a yawn.

Thor only chuckled and pressed Loki closer for a moment.

Loki took a long, slow, peaceful breath and let it out just as slowly. The difference between real and unreal, possible and impossible couldn’t be worth much anymore, not when he and Thor were lying naked in each other’s arms. And being Thor’s chief advisor might actually work out. It would allow him as much privacy with Thor as he wanted, for one thing. Only a queen was allowed more time with the body of the king, and Thor wasn’t likely to be pressured to marry anytime soon, not when Asgard was gone as a galactic power. Even if the question of succession came up, there was a strong argument to be made that passing down a kingdom from parent to child wasn’t the way to help Asgard survive. And as Thor ruled the displaced Asgardians and worked to find them a land of their own, it would be essential for him to have someone like Loki with him. There would no doubt be some decisions to be made that were necessary but unpopular, as well as others that turned out to be simply bad as time passed. Loki could take the majority of the blame for these for the sake of stabilizing Thor’s place. And whenever things were going well, he’d have a place in this new Asgardian society that was comprehensible to it. Maybe some might worry that he was plotting to kill Thor or was going to attempt to rule through him by arcane means, but Loki would welcome those worries. He wouldn’t want anyone to see him as too tame, after all. And perhaps as Thor’s advisor he’d be able to live in all his ambiguities far more than he had as Odin’s second son.

Yes, it could be good. Very, very good. Even the difficulties that were sure to follow in the next few years would be good, because he’d have Thor’s love. He’d have Thor’s love in every way that he needed it, every way that he wanted it.

This wasn’t something he would die for. It was something he would live for. It was something he would fight for.

Once again he’d be fighting alongside Thor.

That would, of course, work better if Thor had an idea what he’d be fighting. “Thor?”

He made a sleepy sound of acknowledgement.

“You talked earlier about possibly having to face the enemies Asgard has made over the millennia. Well…I have managed to make some very powerful enemies myself. I don’t know which will seek me out, or when.”

“No one can stand against us, together.”

“Oh, that so warms my heart—seriously, Thor.”

“No one can stand against us, together, using whatever you took from the vaults?”

Loki skipped the song and dance—Thor knew he’d done something because Thor knew  _him_. The question now was this: what was he going to reveal, and what was he going to conceal about what he’d done? That question had always had another one behind it—how much could he rely on Thor’s love? He’d perpetually underestimated the answer to that, perpetually hidden more than he needed to. Now, his skin on Thor’s, Thor’s heartbeat under his hand, maybe he was finally able to see things clearly. Maybe he would allow himself to not build another maze.

Maybe? Surely.

“I took the tesseract,” Loki said. “Not just for whatever use I might make of it. I think I’m linked with it, in a way I don’t yet fully understand. It’s also…the one thing in the vaults that would have caused me more worry  _not_  knowing what had happened to it, as opposed to keeping it.” He paused. “Not worry. Fear. Thanos wants the infinity stone inside the tesseract and…” Loki clenched his teeth together, felt his breathing get faster, shallower. Of course, this was the reason for all the thought mazes. The more twisting paths there were, the harder it was for the monsters to get out. The straight path of the truth let them run so easily to the forefront of his mind. When they got there—

Thor’s hand gently stroked his side, and he didn’t stop until Loki’s breathing had calmed again. How baffling, the way that Thor’s touch could overwhelm everything else. How wonderful.

“Of the two of us, you would be the one called brave,” Loki said. “But you know how little I fear.”

“I should kill him on sight, is what you’re telling me,” Thor said.

“Yes,” Loki said with a sigh. “But I’m not sure how easy that will be. I…never managed to get a clear sense of his abilities. And I want to kill him, but if I face him again—the fear he instilled, his cruelty—it’s impossible to convey. I don’t want to convey it to you. Not even for you to understand. That’s how awful it was. I don’t know what I’ll do if I face him again.”

“He’s humanoid, right?” Thor asked. “Made of matter?” Loki nodded against his chest. Thor lifted one of his hands and spread his fingers in the dimness of the room. Arcs of electricity started between his fingers near his palm and rose, crackling, to his fingertips, where they disappeared. “I’ve never bothered much with finesse. But now that only my body and mind restrain and channel my powers…I think I could make death come quickly to any born being.”

“I want to believe that,” Loki said. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to until I see Thanos’s ashes scattered.” 

Thor took his hand and twined their fingers together. “It’s true I don’t know for sure. And I don’t have perfect control over my powers. Your body shows that. But what it also shows—I wanted to bring you pleasure, and I did. If what I want guides what my power can do, then Thanos will die as soon as I see him stand still enough for a bolt of lightning to strike him.” 

Loki didn’t say anything right away. Thanos was presumed to be invulnerable, immortal. He’d never seen anything to contradict those assumptions, but he was made of matter, and as a humanoid had a brain made of matter. Could any synapses, any flesh, withstand lightning guided by a wish to kill? It was worth finding out. 

“You’d do this for me,” Loki said, not quite making it a question. “Not let Thanos say one word, not give him any chance to defend himself.” 

“Loki, I just felt you shaking in my arms. That’s not the way you lie. I will put Thanos down like a rabid dog.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I promise you that when I see Thanos those will be his last moments. Even if he approaches crying peace, even if must attack him from the back.” 

“Oh, I wish I was in the mood to tease you about how you’re so willing to dishonor yourself for me,” Loki said.

Thor kissed his forehead, oh so gently. “That you’re not is only more proof of the gravity of this. Rest well now, brother, Loki. Rest well in my promise.”

 

*

 

Thor kept his promise.

Loki was almost glad of the necessity of dispatching Thanos’s followers afterward. Without the distraction of that fight, he might have gone up to Thor and kissed him no matter who was watching.

As it was, their post-battle embrace already seemed on the edge of propriety.

But Loki certainly wasn’t going to let go before Thor did.

**Author's Note:**

> -The title is the name of the grove in which the two humans to survive the mythological Ragnarok wait out the terrible winter that follows it.
> 
> -Does all-heal smell like Vaporub? That's for you to decide.
> 
> -Thor is whatever age you think should be the cusp of manhood in order for you to still enjoy this. Also, Thor's tales of the baths are somewhat exaggerated, to say the least. It's been centuries upon centuries since the days described, and Thor's well aware that Loki's also getting turned on by these stories.
> 
> -Note on Jotun hearthmen: As far as I know this is my own worldbuilding. Jotun have three physical sexes: Two that correspond roughly in shape to those of cis men and women, and then the hearthman form, which is as Loki describes it. What makes hearthmen so significant among the Jotun is that only they can bear or sire children with the other sexes. I.e.: Jman+Jwoman=no offspring. Jman+hearthman=Jgirl or Jboy, Jwoman+hearthman=Jgirl or Jboy, hearthman+hearthman=Jgirl or Jboy or hearthchild. Among the children that hearthman bear, about 1 in 10 is a hearthchild. Losing any hearthman is likely to significantly lower the next generation's population. 
> 
> -I got the thing about Loki not believing in chocolate fountains from a screenshot of the novelization of Ragnarok. Let it never be said that I don't cite my sources. In the spirit of citing my sources, shoutout to the world's most boring professor, who I took a Norse mythology and history of the English language course from when I studied abroad. He wouldn't even say "fuck" when teaching a class on the word, and would be absolutely appalled by this whole entire thing.
> 
> So, I've been out of this fandom for a really long time and this is the first fic I've completed for Thor and Loki. This fic has a lot of the things I like in it, and I'd love recommendations for more fic to read in the comments! :) My tumblr username is the same as my Ao3 name, if you care to find me there.


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